"This won't work, Marcus. You can't have yellow ink on yellow paper, nobody will be able to see it. What? We still need to see it. For Loredana's sake" moaned Ventidius, the Iron Magus, as he scrawled across his desk a new blueprint. His office was a grand affair, gold and iron a perfect marriage for the desk and chair on which he sat. Metallic eyes rolled around in reinforced sockets and focused on the paper in front of him. The hand holding the writing instrument was red and raw, inhuman looking as it brought itself down.

 

A knock on the door startled Ventidius who made an error. With a sigh, he rubbed the mark away and cleared his throat. "Who is it?"

 

"ur'Marshal Dario, sir!"

 

"Come in then, and close the door behind you" grumbled the Geochemist, heaving himself up from behind the desk. Metallic pistons pumped in and out of themselves to help his movement, steam gushing from his elbow as the young ur'Guard entered and saluted. Ventidius waved it away, both hands on the desk. "Report."

 

"They killed several imps and an archdemon, Grand Magus. We routed them off, killed most of them, and the rest ran" recited Dario stiffly, his hand coming down from his forehead.

 

"Yes yes very interesting but why did you think it was important enough to interrupt my workings? I doubt you caught any considering Alphonse was with you" replied Ventidius with a roll of his eyes. His son was ambitious but bloodthirsty to the extreme.

 

"Actually, we did. We managed to snag one as he was leaving through the Earth Plane and he's currently under guard."

 

Ventidius fidgeted with excitement. "Who was it? Tell me, was it Soran, or Halogen, that bastard. I bet it was a Star Council member, no that's not realistic, still, a member of their security perhaps. For gods sake tell me Dario!"

 

Dario shuffled his feet, and gave a quiet cough. "His name is Ezekiel, sir, a furrikin Paladin and Quarter-master in their guild."

 

The Geochemist stared at the ur'Marshall, then sat back down. Dario gulped; that was never a good sign. "What use is that? You know their idea of honour is just a font, they will leave him to rot! Just… wait, a furrikin did you say?"

 

"Aye, sir."

 

"On second thoughts you did good. Come, take me to the prisoner! I presume he's in my family's prison?"

 

The Geochemist strode forth, followed quickly by Dario who struggled to keep up. If he had pistons and hydraulics in his legs, he'd be moving fast too, but he'd give consideration to others. Maybe. The guards in front of the prison nodded as he appeared and opened the door. Considering Ventidius' family, d'Lardick, owned the prison, there was no doubt he had free-reign of it.

 

Through dank hallways and torture chambers they descended, Dario seeing things he'd never seen before, and didn't want to see again. Finally they came to the captured furrikin, a small round thing of fur that was only in it's boxers and a vest, it's armour stacked in the cell next to him along with his swords. "Hello my little furball. Aww, what's the matter, you don't feel like jumping around or bouncing?" sneered Ventidius, and Ezekiel just matched him with a cool stare.

 

"I will not give you the satisfaction of giving in to your jibes or torture. I will retain my dignity, as you have discarded yours, abomination."

 

"Dignity eh? You're in a prison, you foolish furry failure. Still, we shall continue this conversation later, for now, you have been given the honour of seeing my laboratory! What fun.

 

Tainted fumes filled the room with a disgusting smog, but Ventidius breathed it in and it cleared his sinuses. Ezekiel was currently naked and strapped to the table in front of him, his fur shaved entirely off to reveal pink flesh beneath. Criss-crossed scars showed the damages of a whip across his chest, eyes watering from the gases and the fact his eyes had been kept open by toothpicks.

 

"Well well, my little furrikin. Next to Mugwumps, did you know you are a favourite research subject of Magnagora? Well, I say research subject, you probably see yourself a victim. But, well, potato, tomato, or something. What does it matter, I'm not going to let you go, you know i'm not going to let you go. All I can offer you, really, is you won't be aware of what I'm doing, so, there's that I guess."

 

He twisted a valve on his tanks, a gas escaping and reacting with the fumes in the room. Slowly Ezekiel's eyes began to… well, they couldn't close but they rolled up in his head as he became unconsciously humbled, in a sleep so deep not even a dreamweaver would be able to penetrate it. With a hum, Ventidius took up a massive machete, and began cutting into the stomach.

 

***

 

"A shame you didn't know anything! Oh well, i hope you had as much fun as I did!" exclaimed Ventidius, shoving Ezekiel out the door, armour and swords with him. Two illithoid escorted him out of the city, and with trepidation mixed with relief, Ezekiel walked home. Back in the prison, Ventidius smelt the knife he had used to cut into the furrikin and wrinkled his nose. The things this knife had been in while carving up Ezekiel's insides. Still, it was a good sign that he hadn't died. Even if he had, no matter what methods were used to bring him back to life, the damage would remain. Such was the art and trickery of Ventidius' hands, his mind filled with intimate knowledge of mortal bodies.

 

He didn't call himself a scientist, nor was he a torture technician following the directions of Lady Nifilhema,. He was simply an architect. With family connections and a prison part-owned with his brother, the current Archmage of the Geomancers. He gauged it would be a year before desperation claimed Ezekiel's survival instinct, and more important, his faith.

 

It was 14 months, overshooting Ventidius' estimate but nonetheless showing Ezekiel had a certain fortitude. The Architect had been dictating to a scribe at the top of d'Murani tower, enjoying the tainted smog and ozone-burning magic of Magnagora, when the guards gave a cry of alarm from below and Ezekiel staggered onto the veranda. "You! Give me back my life!" he roared, and charged.

 

Sword met metal laced bones, and Ventidius floored Ezekiel with a punch. As city guards swarmed, the Geochemist shook his head. "Leave us. Mason. I wiil continue this dictation later this month. Feel free to have a break." The scribe, startled at the sudden arrival, dutifully stood up and bowed, following the guards downstairs. When the roof was clear, Ventidius sat down on the bench and smiled. "I wondered when we'd meet again."

 

Ezekiel was wearing the same armour as before but now it showed signs of wear and battle-fatigue. A straggly beard reached past his chin and his hair looked unwashed. A bulge around his thighs and crotch displayed a large adult diaper. Seeing it, Ventidius laughed, and that was the last straw. Ezekiel lunged forwards, wrapping hands around the Geochemist's throat. "What did you do to me? WHAT DID YOU DO?!" he yelled, and Ventidius began to chuckle instead.

 

"Me? I did nothing. I rearranged some of your body but apart from that, not a sausage" replied Ventidius innocently, using a strong hand to dislodge Ezekiel's and hurl him to the floor.

 

"You did do something! I know you did. So undo it! Now!"

 

"Undo what? You'll have to be a bit more specific."

 

"My stomach! Fix it. The healers can't do anything for me, neither the weird witches in Glomdoring. I want you to undo the thing you did where you gave me permanent dysentry! No, worse than that. Every time I eat something it instantly comes out. I have no control over my bowels. UNDO THAT! DO I NEED TO BE MORE SPECIFIC?"

 

"Haha I can't believe it worked! I had theorised about it, but never did the few subjects ever have it done just right. I won't go into details, but suffice to say, yes, I did do that to you. To be precise, I have given you a permanent affliction of incontinence. That's the correct term for it, let's be professional. By the way, the diaper looks good on you." Ventidius began laughing again, oil coming from his eyes as tears. Before Ezekiel could attack again the Iron Magus sent a blast of acidic steam at Ezekiel's leg, dissolving the clothes and leaving him naked from the waist down apart from the diaper which had seen better days.

 

"Stop laughing! Fix me, undo it, fix me! It's horrible. People point to me and laugh. I can't go to meetings without… I can't eat, I have to take care all the time. I've not felt full for weeks. Just, please, any pity just please, undo this! Make me normal again I'm sorry I ever raided Nil, for every demon I killed and would kill, just please make me whole again!" sobbed the knight, wailing at Ventidius' feet.

 

The Geochemist took out a bag of nuts, munching on them as he watched the blubbering Paladin. "Why do you care? Think of yourself  wearing a diaper, being jeered at, and having as much control over his bowels as a toddler. I tell you this, thank the Gods you have your precious 'dignity', that's all that matters. Me, with servants and a prized bloodline, oh no, that's not dignified at all I'm just an ABOMINATION." He spat food all over the Paladin with venom, panting with rage.

 

"I'll do anything! Just… anything!"

 

"Desperation! Finally you show a worthy emotion. A desperate man is one I can relate to. OK, I want you to go to Bondero Bay, and slaughter all the merians there. Men, women, children. Be cruel, be vicious, massacre the entire island. Once you have done that, I will cure your ails."

 

Ezekiel gaped, torn between duty and dignity. He couldn't turn on the most noble of races, and bring shame to his guild. No, he had to think of the good of many, not of himself. That was the Supernal way. But where were they now… they didn't care. They couldn't do anything. He was a doomed man anyway. Finally, he nodded, a tear dripping from his eye, and departed, forgetting about the diaper he wore, too relieved at the prospect of having it removed.

 

While the Iron Magus waited, Ventidius lay on his side and looked at his other hand. Skeletal and metallic, it flexed with whirring noises and he napped, surrounded by the Tainted fumes which inhabited his body and made him feel safe. He dreamt of the carnage that was unfolding, chuckling at the thought of a Paladin killing merian children and bringing shame to Celest. A desperate man could still be a fool. A man on the edge can still hold back, still hold hope. Peer into the Abyss, have it peer back at you, and make it look away first.

 

As the day went on, he was awoken by heavy trudging and the drip of blood on the flagstones of the tower's roof. His mechanical eyes whirred and focused on the bloodied and exhausted looking Ezekiel. Tears streamed down his face and he sniffled, despair evident in his eyes. Ezekiel gently lay the merian child at Ventidius' feet, and then went down on his knees. His swords dropped to the floor, and he looked at his hands with a stunned look. "There. It is done. All killed, Marinus included. Now, fix me."

 

Ventidius sat up, his face sombre now, and shrugged. "I cannot."

 

Ezekiel was too tired to show more rage, or despair. He just gave a flat, emotionless response. "What?"

 

"I purposely made it so not even I could undo the process. Whether by conscience or mind control, or coercion, there would have been a chance I would have undone it. But not even I can make better what I have carved into your insides."

 

Ezekiel trembled, his entire world falling around him. No, his world had already fallen down, this was… his universe. His mind, his soul, everything that made him him, fallen. The Paladin sobbed and curled into a feral position, muttering madly. "You tricked me… you made me… why…? What did I ever do to you? Just… tell me…" whispered Ezekiel, his eyes filled with horror at the memory of what he did. Worst of all was the banishment from Celest, hunted by those he once called friends, all leading to something he had dreaded from the moment he was caught. At the mercy of a Magnagoran who did not care for his plight.

 

"I was bored, and you were arrogant. I can be arrogant, I am a noble of the Engine, the one with potential to bring my city to glory, while you are a blind fool who was blinded by the Light. But now i have shown you the truth, what is really behind the yellow and blue. An empty vessel, devoid of feeling and circling the plug hole. But I did not lie when i said I would cure you. You see, since you have no control over eating or drinking, there is only one course of action left" explained Ventidius, standing up and hefting his Magnum blastworks onto his shoulder. Ezekiel looked up with hope, and frost simmered over the iron spheres of Ventidius' eyes.

 

A cold hand grasped Ezekiel's chest, and he felt death enter him. "No…" he whispered, but without conviction. Exhaustion claimed the remaining parts of his resistance, and this feeling felt so… final. Forsaken by the Light, there was only one thing he was good for. Undeath.

 

When Ventidius let go, he gasped, his body trembling with the raw power of Necromancy. "You will have no need to eat, no need to drink, no need to sleep. Your insides will be dead, your body will cease to function. So, it doesn't matter what state your body is in. You think I damned you? I've given you a gift. You will now join the Engine, for where else will you go, and work hard to spread the Taint's glory all over the Basin."

 

Standing tall over the prone and exhausted furrikin, Ventidius looked down with hatred. "There is a method for embracing your undeath prematurely. I, however, find this method more preferable" revealed Ventidius, and slammed his Magnum blast works into the furrikin's head. He was dazed, on the floor, but not caring, even as blood seeped from his head to join the blood of the merian youth. As the magnum came down again, crushing his skull like an egg, his last image as a normal mortal was the staring dead eyes of the child he had killed.

 

Ventidius slammed twice more, panting and snarling, his violent nature showing through briefly. "Nobody mocks me. Nobody sneers at me" he growled, and dragged back the weapon, revelling in the drops of blood that dripped to the floor from the Magnum. A few seconds later, skin knitted back and Ezekiel took in a deep breath that he didn't need. His skin was clammy, the just barely visible fur damp and sticking down permanently (An extra bonus, he had ensured it so that Ezekiel would never grow fur again). A hollow look was in his eyes, and Ventidius laughed. "Welcome to the Engine, Ezekiel. May you serve it well, or at least, until your final death. You have no future here, but perhaps a worthy master will give you back what little potential you had."

 

The Geochemist turned to go, then paused. He picked up the merian's body and pushed it towards the ex-Paladin. "Eat. It will provide sustenance, I guarantee you" smirked Ventidius, and walked down the stairs while Ezekiel dumbly munched on the forehead of the child, tearing off skin and chewing it. A bloody tear dripped from his eye, but that was all the emotion he showed.

 

Forever would that tear stain his face, a reminder to all who might attack the Engine, or earn the wrath of Ventidius d'Lardick. The Iron Maguss