Great monuments built to the worship of the god Markus stood out surrounding the small track of land under Society’s rule. They were surrounded by a sheen of blue wisps. The wisps were attracted to the mana stored in the great staves. Like moths to the flame they flew too close and the staves’ enchantments sucked in the loose collections of mana.

To one Gig, a human who joined Society it was beautiful. It was a sight rarely enjoyed by those not of Society. Even the great spires in Haven lacked a real purpose. After all power without purpose was mere potential energy. It did not matter how great the strain behind the arrow it was worthless if it never had a target.

Gig was a strange mage. His types were steel, life, and electricity. He had no psychic power until he joined Society. “You were missing that part of the brain. Gaining the ability would have killed you.” That was Society the ever vigilant overmind. It allowed the freedom of communication with anyone within the society and then some. Gig just had to go through a process to turn him into a drone. He still got to keep his body. Or class H shell as his brothers called it.

Yea, he was a brain now. Society was able to use a blank drone and after an unpleasant process of having his organs mostly devoured, he became the drone. There was some debate of whether he was really the drone or if the drone simply thought it was him.

Society assured him that his brain was directly merged with the drone instead of being devoured and absorbed. A good thing, he had psychic powers now along with all his other abilities. Drones are duplicated with psychic power and all the hardware that comes with it. So, he was a drone with psychic, steel, life, and electricity.

He worked as a craftsman here in the holy land. That’s what they called Markus’s land. He remembered meeting the guy once. Sort of quiet, likes to keep to himself, and powerful to a ridiculous degree. Gig understood why Markus was worshipped.

A far as worship goes, they were only allowed to pray up to five times a day. Anymore and their god might get annoyed. Apparently, hearing the wants and desires of your followers can be distracting.

Gig was a craftsman. His craftsman skills included leatherworking, armorer, blacksmith, plasterer, chemist, alchemy, potions, chimeralogy, chimeratry, metalworking, and his favorite arteficer. These skills gave him a bountiful amount of perception, intelligence, willpower, and pride. He was a long way off from purchasing the stats pride and perception, but he would eventually.

Right now, his only skill at journeyman was metalworking. He made cannons for Society. Their military needed some long-range artillery and it helped a lot against the elves. Every kill with his creations earned him several points.

He was on his way to Haven for the slave actions. There was a rumor that a centaur was going on the market. Such a rare creature had to be his. Gig had a quirk not a big one or even a bad one in his opinion. He was obsessed with centaurs. Every one of his fellow drones and Society knew it. Their god had no opinion, so for once he wasn’t judged for his desire.

There was something about a beautiful woman with a powerful steed for a lower half that turned him on. He remembered meeting one when he was younger on his way to the academy. She looked at him like dirt and treated his advances with contempt. He couldn’t help but follow her around and like a fool he asked her to marry him. She told him that it wasn’t personal, but he was unworthy of her. She was powerful and beautiful, and he was inexperienced.

He was different now and even Society cheered him on. The hivemind wouldn’t mind another sequence of traits and if it calmed him down enough to get back to work all the better. He promised Society that if he got his centaur bride, he would build Markus their god an Artefact worthy of a god something beyond a mere hero artefact. There was a feeling of pride from the rest of the hivemind. They wanted him to succeed.

While his fellows impregnated their herds of cows and new shells were birthed in the flesh pits below the great cathedral, he was making himself a spot among the crowd of buyers. A giant spider was hauled out, and Society urged him to bid. He complied confident that he could do something with the silk.

“We are starting the bid at 500.” The announcer said.

Gig raised his hand. “600,” He called out only for 700, then 800, and 900. “1000,” Gig yelled out.

“1000, going once, twice,” no one wanted to raise their hands, more than likely they just wanted to raise the bid. “Sold, to the new comer. Pay your dues and collect her at the end.” A few more monsters were taken out and then she stepped out. It had been years, her hair blonde like hay was in knots. There were scars on her haunches from a whip and still she held her head up high. If he still had a heart it would have stopped.

“We will start the bid at 10,000.” He looked around for any takers. The buyers were eyeing her, and Gig wanted to get her at a lower price. Though he would proudly pay 10million for her. Society asked him to not let it come to that. “500,” Gig raised his hand. The other buys looked at the wounds as part of a disobedient slave and didn’t want her. But one guy raises his hand. “1000,” The guy said.

“Going once do I hear 1,100,” Gig raised his hand.

“1,200,” the guys said.

“Gig raised his hand. “3,000,” The guy had bought a lot of monsters today already. He even purchased a half lizard girl. Society wanted him to bid on it, but they lost it in the end. The guy lowered his hand and shrugged.

“Sold to Sparky.” The actioner said.

Gig payed for his purchases and began marching them back to the holy land. The hard part was after the action. He had to win her over and hope she didn’t try to escape.