As Althos reflected on the nuances of how to handle Hagitha Banethal, a deranged demon devotee, he decided to ask his advisors a question he had about something he learned about her earlier.

[Hey can either of you tell me what a spell-singer is? Does it mean that Hagitha is the same sort of magician as that guy Ravernagos killed forever ago?] Althos asked, curious as to what it meant for both him and his other servants that the newest creature to want to devote themselves to him was a multiclass spell-singer and oracle.

The deity quietly looked out at Hagitha as he waited to see if either of his advisors knew what the term that had appeared when he used his identify power meant off hand. The dark elf herself was staring back at him, with eerie, admiration-filled eyes that managed to track him no matter where he went as if he were there in the flesh and not merely projecting his consciousness.

After a few moments passed Althos' question was answered by Samyaza, the deity's angelic advisor.

[Hey Althos, spell-singers are a type of magic-user whose magic comes from within. In the case of spell-singers as opposed to other types of natural magicians they can use magic through song, most often with an instrument as a sort of channeling device but some types exist who can sing their spells into reality. Their powers are kind of amazing too, empowering their allies and demoralizing or outright mesmerizing their enemies.] The angelic orb thoughtfully informed Althos.

The deity nodded in response to that, figuring that it was the case, and then thanking his angelic servant. After that he immediately considered what it would mean for his forces, limited as they were at the present, to have an ally with those powers. This further cements her value to me... He thought, quietly and somewhat annoyedly.

After a few seconds, he mentally sighed and exasperatedly complained to no one. I wasn't going to kill her anyway, but why does she have to have such a fantastic class? Just to remind me that killing things isn't always the best approach? He grumbled, scornfully complaining just to harmlessly deal some of his annoyance.

At that point the deity refocused on the matter at hand and spoke to the dark elf once more, all the while ignoring Qiloth. "Earlier you said you had a two-part offering. Am I right in assuming that the second part of that offering is that little thing between you and your... mate?" Althos asked, his voice quiet and intimidating in the forlorn dining room. He was referring to the codex that sat right between Hagitha and Qiloth.

The god, oftentimes a schemer and ever an opportunist, decided right before Hagitha spoke what he was likely to do at that moment. And for it to be as effective as possible on the party on whom it would have the greatest effect, Drow needed to see it. That meant that Althos needed to be sharing this moment with him. And so he did that.

In a flash of genius, Althos envisioned a plot that would allow him to earn significant trust, respect, and admiration from Drow. The deity didn't feel that he needed that, but he realized that having such things from the dark elf would help him convince Drow to accept how Althos planned to punish his mother. And it was a creative punishment. One that involved the strange, dark voice that Althos sometimes chatted with.

As the plot rapidly came together in his mind, he curiously wondered what the strange voice would think of having this eerie woman be the leader of a cult dedicated to death. The voice would probably find it funny and laugh with its neat laugh. Althos thought, internally grinning at the real possibility that that's what it'd do.

And he immediately found out, because the referenced voice spoke directly to him.

[Oh Althos, is this for me? You're a sweet little god, aren't you? You know... I've decided that I actually like you. Allow me to introduce myself more formally. I'm the subdomain of necromancy. Since you've been so accommodating of me, I'll return the favor. Allow me to give you a quest that'll both increase your necromantic knowledge, and allow you to eventually exert influence over me.] The voice gleefully whispered, finally formally introducing itself after having spoken to the young god several times. But it wasn't done.

[I know you've hesitated to kill things, but I think you should know that being worshiped by undead creatures confers the same benefits as being worshiped by living ones. Just like being worshiped by demons, devils, and other evil extraplanar creatures also strengthens gods. In the past, there were numerous gods of undeath. They were strong because undead creatures can still worship something. Every kill a cult of death and undeath makes strengthens you. Don't fear it.] The voice said, proving itself to be unusually talkative now that Althos was rewarding it with a cult.

And then Althos got the quest, the first domain or subdomain quest he'd gotten in a while.

[New quest: The dead don't stay dead

Objectives: Create a necromantic cult and encourage those cultists to kill other living things and then use necromancy to raise them as undead monstrosities.

Progress: Cults created 0/1

Undead created 0/100

Reward: Althos is granted the ability to exert the lowest tier of influence over necromancy and necromancers who immediately and instinctively recognize you as an incredibly powerful necromancer in your own right, even without knowing that you are a god. The lowest tier of influence over necromancy makes it impossible for lesser undead to attack you and anyone you mark as a devotee to you and to necromancy. It also grants encyclopedic knowledge of all lesser undead creatures.

Note #1: This is the first magical subdomain to recognize you and to grant you a quest to influence it. Necromancy as a sub-domain is tied to numerous other domains, including death and mortality, and various subdomains such as unholiness, and hatred. Completing this quest goes a long way towards opening paths toward other dark domains and sub-domains.

Note #2: This quest is the first quest of its type you've come across, namely it's the first repeating quest. Future quests to gain influence over the subdomain of necromancy are more intense versions of this, with a rare few exceptions. When you complete this quest, you'll automatically receive the next, longer quest.]

And Althos got one more notification, shortly after the necromancy subdomain spoke once more. [And here's a little gift from me to you, to aid in the establishment of your cute little cult.] The voice said, beginning to laugh gleefully. Althos received a notification seconds later.

[Alert:

The necromantic domain has given you the ability to grant witches, wards, warlocks, clerics, and your most devoted servants' service, even those without religious classes, access to numerous, low-level necromantic spells. When used this ability can also grant spellcasters the ability to use these spells without cost a few times a day, usually just once for those with the least natural talent in magic so with your consent anyone can use this magic.

These spells include but aren't limited to: rot beam, speak with the dead, create zombie, create skeleton, vampiric touch, and vitality absorption.

You can manually gift your servants' more cost-free usages of these spells per day, but doing that too freely may cause them to grow dependent on you or spoiled rather than into tough, independent necromancers who seek to fulfill your will.]

Althos willed the notification away, feeling more powerful by the second, and grinned at what he felt was a brilliant plan.

What more cruel way to punish someone who wants to die, than by having them lead a cult dedicated to necromancy? A cult that delights in sacrifice, but prohibits her from dying? I'll make it a bit worse... I'll even prohibit her from directly administering even light pain by her own hand? Althos thought, chuckling quietly at the thought that this would force her to live vicariously through others.

And at that moment he also realized that this gave him one final edge. And one final push to embrace this plan. If I do begin this quest here and now, and use it to increase my necromantic powers and to gain more knowledge about necromancy I can gain one final victory. At some point I can gain necromantic abilities that allow me to deprive Hagitha of ever ascending to demonhood, and make her into an undead creature that retains her powers. And then give her to Drow. Althos' grin at that moment was particularly cruel, and he began to grow very excited about this new plan.

And then he began to intensely focus on the scene that was playing out in front of him. He focused on as many details as he could without impacting his ability to transmit mental messages, and then he began to send a message, a visual and audio one, to Drow. Hagitha's son. What he was doing was focusing on the scene before him, paying the sort of attention to it that he had never paid to any other, singular event.

She nodded at him, a serene smile forming on her lips once again. This is it... the moment of my victory. She told herself, as she reached out and grabbed the thing. When she felt it in her hands she was grateful for it, and to herself for having the wisdom to order one of her slaves to slave away and copy entire chapters from massive, academic tomes that contained years of research into godhood, some of it having been done during the ages when gods still existed.

She began to speak, her voice calmer but also smugger than it had been before. "This is a one of a kind codex that compiles research from hundreds of across the eons into the nature of divinity. I spent no small amount of money getting the tomes that this single codex summarizes. I don't believe there's any single object on this continent that compiles so much diverse knowledge about gods." She said arrogantly. She was almost still smiling serenely but her tone revealed her arrogance.

She put the thing back on the table and waited for Althos to take it. Althos' reaction didn't take long at all, but it wasn't what she expected it to be.

Drow's eyes curiously explored the inner workings of one of Milene's private laboratories. He had spent the last few moments doing so and had been impressed at what he found.

Drow had spent the last few minutes in the company of the soft-hearted dark elven alchemist who had selflessly agreed to aid her companion and it was only moments ago that she left to go fetch the two of them some beverages. She was grabbing some liquor with which the two of them would chase away the sorrowful memories and thoughts that Drow's parents had inflicted on him over the course of the past few days.

While she was gone he contented himself to visually explore the interior of her workshop, his temporary home.

The inner chambers of the workshop contained, among other things, another room which was often used as a laboratory but sometimes doubled as a home away from home for the young, passionate alchemist. As such there was a tiny space in a warm corner of that particular chamber that contained an unpacked and frequently used bedroll, which Drow had been told was his to use for as long, or as often, as he needed.

At the moment Drow was inside of the most frequently used laboratory, where Milene spent hours each day either producing regular potions, poisons, and items that fell somewhere in between or working on unique, original items that she hoped would increase her alchemical powers and prowess in time.

He was situated along the left-most wall, where a little space had been created years ago to give guests a place to sit. This little area contained a small table, two seats, and currently empty, recently drained and still unwashed cups.

Until recently it hadn't seen much use, but its cleanliness and the fact that the cups and handtowels had been out prior to his fairly sudden arrival were things that hinted that Milene's workshop was becoming a popular place, for reasons Drow suspected but had no definitive proof of, yet. Reasons that the dark elf found agreeable. If she's succeeding at luring people to Althos' service then I'm happy at least one of us is. He truthfully told himself.

Oh Milene... what'd I do, without you? He asked himself, happy to be in this space. He felt some of his anger's worst edges and most brutal instincts weaken as he had talked to her.

At the center of the room, to his right, there was a large central table made of what looked to be an iron alloy that made the substance stronger and a darker color. This table took up nearly a quarter of the total chamber, and atop it sat a variety of equipment.

Some of the equipment were things that even someone unfamiliar with alchemy could recognize at a glance: the table was where a few different mortars and pestles were stored. And yet there was also a fair number of items on the table that were items he had never seen or had never seen used in alchemy.

There were a number of beakers on the table. They were empty at the moment, but Drow was unsure of what purpose they served unless Milene planned to brew up an excessive amount of potions and store them in the containers that were far taller than many of the tiny vials he'd seen other dark elves drink from to speedily recover from exhaustion or minor wounds.

It was at that moment that Drow began to receive a mental message, one, unlike any mental image he had received to date. It wasn't of words, and it wasn't just of voices speaking to each other. It was of a scene, one that was occurring in real-time. In it, he saw his mother arrogantly describe a codex that she held in her hands, evidently believing the moment of her victory of sorts was at hand.

His heart twisted and he felt anger as he saw her face. He felt his heart contort in rage as he was forced to look at her. But as he looked at her, there was a change on her face. Her usual serene expression changed, immediately and inexplicably becoming one of panic.

This is gonna hurt me but it'll also hurt her. Althos thought as he waited for her to put the codex back on the table. He wasn't happy about what he was about to do, but he knew it'd catch Hagitha off guard, and it was showy enough that it'd shock and even evoke awe in who it was intended to be a display for, Drow. And when she did, he acted.

You can't buy me... Not that easily at least. Althos mentally hissed, as a firebolt exploded out from his incorporeal form. The thin flaming orb was just a few centimeters wide, but it was centimeters of orange flaming energy which shot out and took aim at the codex. It streaked through the air that separated him and the codex. And when it struck the thing, the codex caught fire immediately.

And for the first time, Hagitha was truly shocked, to the point that she froze up. Her freezing delayed her reaction, she didn't have the time to try and put out the flames, before they ravenously began to damage the thing her slave had made for Althos. The orange flames quickly engulfed the book, and when Althos sensed that the dark elf woman had recovered from her paralytic surprise was about to act he magically froze her, through a mystical effect rather than a spell of some sort.

She was paralyzed, totally still and unable to move. Her facial expression was a contorted one, one that conveyed her shock, anger, and confusion. And then Althos began to talk.

"Hagitha you were cruel to your own family. You used your mate as a blunt weapon, ordering him to beat his own son, one of MY worshipers. I approached you to reveal your reasoning, and you pretended you did this to get my attention when in actuality more than anything else this was just a jealous outburst that Drow found me before you did. I spent the last few minutes wondering how I should punish you for this outrageous behavior and it's taken me a bit to arrive at a suitable punishment." He said, pride and anger seeping into his voice.

Though the rest of Hagitha's body was paralyzed, her eyes weren't and while Althos spoke they turned from the burning book to stare at the place from which the shocking firebolt had appeared from. To stare, in fear, at Althos. What she viewed as unpredictable behavior from Althos frightened her.

If he's not like me... I don't know what he could do! She thought, in a rare moment of sensibility, her fear causing her normally deranged mind to focus and react vaguely reasonably to a situation she hadn't felt was possible until it had already happened.

Althos continued his speech, content in her shock and the fear in her gaze. "You are a demon devotee. You seek death because you believe it to be what stands between you and demonhood. But you're wrong Hagitha. Because you see... what stands between you and demonhood is ME." Althos said, his voice booming across the desolate dining room.

The terror in Hagitha's eyes grew wider, and this made Drow grin. In the safety of Milene's workshop, the young oracle was divided over what Althos was saying, a small part of him still wanting to see Hagitha's head on a spike, but the genuine terror he could clearly see in her eyes weakened the case for violently punishing her. It seems this odd sort of psychological terror is more effective instead... He admitted to himself.

"You hurt a precious follower of mine. And the context of that makes it worse. You, and your mate," Althos said, turning very briefly to Qiloth, who began to shrink back in his chair as if he were a child being punished for throwing a temper-tantrum. And then the otherworldly deity turned back to Hagitha, speaking once again, continuing right where he left off.

"Didn't hurt Drow in self-defense, not for some perceived slight, but because he told you of a fateful, life-changing encounter with a god. A god he pledged himself too. A god you, in your own very delusional way, want to serve! Well, guess what? Now you're having a life-changing encounter with a god of your own, one you now serve. Now you don't need to be jealous anymore!" He said, grinning in the depths of his mind. He was enjoying this.

"This is life-changing for someone as self-interested as you. Because you see, you are going to live the rest of your mortal life in my service. You're going to devote yourself to me. Mind, heart, body, and soul. I will be the reason for your existence." Althos said, his voice growing colder and more hostile the more he spoke. "And I know just what to do with you." He said, and for the first time, he manifested a part of himself to the two dark elves: a floating, disembodied smirk.

The floating smirk began to speak again. "You are going to form a specific cult. A cult that trains necromancers in my service. And you are going to be its head. But, unless it's in self-defense I will not permit you to harm anyone." Althos told her.

"You possess either innate or learned charisma, I can't tell yet, and you are immensely self-confidence. I've no doubt you'll be a natural at convincing people to devote themselves to me and to give themselves to me to avoid death and inflict it on others, which is what necromancy does. That makes you useful. I don't like killing useful things if I can avoid it. Especially if it'd make them happy. Which makes me doubly not want to kill you. But this isn't killing you. It just deprives you of something you love and begins the process of turning you into a useful tool of mine." He told the dark elf.

Hagitha cried out at the thought of losing the right to inflict pain on other people, since that stole her demented mind's most effective sources of satisfaction. Her voice communicated the earnest, eerie pain she felt, wailing loudly in the chamber. Althos, demonstrating mild impatience at Hagitha's emotional outburst decided to be gentler with what he said next so as to start to wrap this up and move onto punishing Qiloth.

"You are being punished for what you did, but I am accepting your worship and making you a useful tool. I'm even making you a leader. Do you not realize what that means? And more than that... I'm giving you power. Over others. This is an honor. One you'll have to rise up and prove yourself worthy of." He asked her, his voice surprisingly tender. She quieted down as she heard Althos and thought about what he had said.

A few moments of silence passed. And then she opened her mouth. Is she gonna speak? Althos wondered. But then she closed her mouth. And after a few more seconds pass she again opened her mouth. Althos watched a hundred emotions run through her eyes at once. And then the emotions in her eyes settled on two emotions: acceptance and a flicker of joy.

"Master... I accept my punishment." She said, sorrow evident in her voice. "I accept the punishment you've deemed appropriate for my actions. And I pledge myself to you. Not to my... envisionment of you, but to you, in all of your dark truth." She said, her voice once again reverential. Althos' ego was stroked at that moment and he chuckled darkly.

I know it's not gonna be this easy but... for now I think that'll do. He told himself, before getting a surprising notification.

[Feat Gained: Seedling

Benefit: Your powers over undeath have increased in variety and in magnitude because of the dark actions you've taken. Your other, darker powers will also see an increase, including your mind-breaking powers, and your persuasive abilities.

The most notable impact this will have is on your powers over plants. They've all received significant boosts. The system is receiving multiple plant-related notifications, but for the moment those are being stored. Access them later to read about your new plant-based abilities.

Method of Acquisition: First you must receive and begin a quest that grants influence towards an entirely and unrepentantly evil domain or subdomain. And second, in pursuit of this quest, you must draw someone towards you. In your case, you accepted the necromancy quest, and then you gained a cultist in the form of Hagitha.

Flavor text: Every cult begins with a seed of some sort. A seed of darkness. A seed of madness. A seed of subservience. As a great being, be it a god or something else, it's not often going to be you who plants that seed in the fertile soil of a mortal heart or soul, but you made the decision to water it. And that means something. So here is the system's way of rewarding you.

Note #1: This odd feat was created in the past for Great Old Ones and for Fey-Lords. It was not created for gods or arch-devils. The fact that you got it at all is fascinating. And telling.

Note #2: This feat directly relates to cults. There are two meanings of the word cult that are relevant here. The first is that a cult is a small faith in an unusual or not-accepted object of reverence. The second is that the term cult applies to the worship of non-deities. Because you are a deity. And you aren't. Arch-Devils are not deities. And yet you are becoming one.]

Althos pondered this for a moment, but he decided that he'd communicate it to his worshipers at once and ask for their insight in a few moments. For now, he focused on talking to Drow.

[Drow your mother is... was, a demon worshiper. She sought and almost certainly still seeks to become a demon herself. She attacked you out of what appears to be a fusion of jealousy, and earnest belief that it would please me. It didn't. Like you I considered killing her, but that would give her what she wants: death, and a possible route to demonhood. So I decided to torture her in the same way she tortured you: psychologically. By taking away her ability to inflict pain on others.] Althos told his servant. The dark elf was quiet for a few moments, so Althos continued speaking.

Althos decided to reveal a truth at that moment, one that would hopefully make this easier for his dark elf servant to accept.

[Killing her is too simple and its too easy. So instead I'm doing something else. She'll be one of the keys to her own undoing. I plan to become a powerful necromancer, one with knowledge of a sort of undead creature to twist her into that most effectively leverages her powers, which is something that she'd loathe because I'd do so in a way that prevents her from becoming a demon, and then I'll give her to you as a toy or as a tool. Assuming you want her.] He told the dark elf.

And then Althos turned on Qiloth.

Drow sat in his little chair in the laboratory he had first appeared in minutes ago, as Milene arrived with an unopened bottle of liquor. He was quiet and smiled softly at her.

So this is Althos' plan... to let her live, use her for her spell-singing, charisma, and dark devotion, and eventually deprive her of her ultimate goal, before giving her to me. The dark elf thought. He pondered how he felt about that.

It's an act of complete revenge, even if it takes... a long time to achieve. The dark elf glumly acknowledged, feeling waves of bitter, heated anger, wash over him. But Drow carefully and patiently waited for those feelings to pass, as he gently grabbed the bottle of liquor Milene brought with her. He opened it with ease, dexterously removing the thing's top, and waiting for her to scoot her cup closer to him so that he could pour her som.

Revenge is a dish best served cold. And in this case I guess the coldness will come from her corpse. Even if I have to wait a bit for it. He thought, doing his best to come to grips with this turn of events. And as Milene pushed her cup to him, Drow sent his master a message.

[There is a part of me that wants her dead now, but even the most petty parts of that impulse can accept the cruelly logical nature of this scheme. Master... I am grateful that you rescued me. I am grateful that you're getting revenge on my behalf.] Drow told Althos, all while smiling at Milene. He was grateful for more than the rescue and the route Althos opened towards revenge.

[I can accept this outcome, and I will double my efforts to serve you. I don't know if I'll want whatever you turn her into in the future. I can make no promises. But you saved my life, exacted a sort of revenge, and are plotting more. Thank you.] He told his master, allowing emotion to seep into the message and communicating beyond a shadow of a doubt the purity and intensity of his gratitude and joy.

Althos swiftly sent him a message that brought more joy to Drow's dark heart. [Oh if you want pain and suffering, don't worry. We still have the one who actually inflicted the physical wounds on you: Qiloth. If you want brutality and something visceral, I have an idea for Qiloth you'll like.] Althos informed his minion. And that made Drow smile even more, while the dark elf poured himself a drink.