Weeping Grassinia stood beneath the first of her kind to rise. The one who had shown them the way forward to be greater than they ever had been. Now she had followed the path and proven herself in a trial set forth by Lord Hidden Blue Tear. So it was that the time was upon her to become greater so that the tears might flow freely.
Lord Hidden Blue Tear looked down upon her and stared for a few moments, taking her in and observing her in her fullness. After these few moments of careful observation, he spoke. "You have proven yourself worthy, so now let's see if you can handle the tears." He said in a voice that echoed like a waterfall of tears.
Weeping Grassinia lost herself then as she was consumed in a feeling of complete misery. As if she were at the bottom of a lake being filled with the tears of thousands. She felt it and could feel the changes such emotion grinding her brought in. She did not think on any of these feelings or the pain that came with the transformation.
No, she could think of only one thing, and that was the full misery that made up a being like Lord Hidden Blue Tear. She wept many acid tears at the glory of such great sadness and spoke but a single word. "Glorious." She says the sound was echoing around the nearby rooms in the hidden mansion she was in.
Far too soon for Weeping Grassinia; it was over, and she now stood twice and half the size she used to be. Her new armor is shifting and becoming far better camouflage than ever before. She took a second to adjust herself to her new body, then turned to look back at Lord Hidden Blue Tear. He said but a few words to her.
"Now as the first hunter, you shall help me spread sadness and misery far greater than I ever could alone." Lord Hidden Blue Tear said as both of them turned their eyes to the scroll that appeared before her to tell her exactly how she would do such things, and she was not disappointed in the answer it gave her.
Weeping Grassinia looked at the information with sad wonder in her eyes. Her much taller body caused her now more powerful acid tears to hit the ground from a much greater height, causing a green acid waterfall to form beneath her face. She was relishing in her new form, wondering what new tragedies she could gaze upon from her new vantage point.
Maxwell watched all of this from within the center of his necropolis and found himself mentally smiling at the new hunters' strange form of joy. He did not remember how emotions worked normally. As he had lost so much as a soul wandering the void between life and death, he was pretty sure the emotions on display weren't his; they usually worked.
Though as he thought more on it, he came to realize it was normal for his little undead kingdom. As with all the elementals being of sadness or rage while being bound together through necromancy, it wasn't surprising emotions got a bit funny. Though he hoped he wouldn't normalize the emotional situation of his kingdom too much. As that would probably lead to some strange places if he went through with that thought process.
Though as he had entered a thoughtful mood, he found himself thinking on the latest events. The red tourney and the tragic hunt had increased the power of both his undead elemental factions. Not to mention that his necropolis's docks were producing warships eager to fight. As it seemed, more and more of both the stinger and sad tale warship types were being produced. For the moment, they were just patrolling the nearby area, but he could see that they were patrolling farther and farther with each new warship.
He knew eventually both these groups, his undead warships and undead grass elementals, would make their move and try to expand the borders of his realm by invading whatever was next to the pixie grasslands. The silver lining was that at the moment none of his generals or the newly born citizens of his necropolis seemed to have expansionist ideals.
He went over his necropolis with his necrotic senses at their maximum to be sure. He found that for the moment that all within were content. The only real thing going on beyond the plans of the expansionists was that his generals seemed to be obsessed with building up whatever defense they could. Which was fair, as the hero had overwhelmed them, and they were surely wanting to make sure such a thing never happened again.
Maxwell continued for a moment to simply gaze at his new capital, wondering at the fact he had such a thing. As it happened, it hadn't been that long ago that he'd just been skull desperately, asking the god of all monsters for aid. No, he was king of a nation with armies that had slain a hero. This thought brought him up short as he realized he hadn't really done anything with the hero's body or his sword.
So he immediately extended his senses and saw that there wasn't much left of the body. As Lord Red Razor Armory and Lord Hidden Blue Tear hadn't cut his body into tiny pieces to be sure of his death. Though the grass sword seemed to be no worse for the wear after that climatic battle. He wondered what to do with the body, for surely he could find some use for it.
Though he wasn't sure how, as he fixed his gaze upon it, a thought did occur to him that it would take a bucket to bury the dead hero. This thought shocked him as it caused him to realize something incredibly important. Which was his necropolis, which was incomplete, as how could he have a city of the dead and not have catacombs?
So he began work at once, planning out how the catacombs would come to operate and look. All the while he had a silent fear that haunted him that he hoped would not come to fruition. That the expansionist faction would try to do something drastic while his attention was below ground.
Though it also occurred to Maxwell that the fact he knew he had political factions to worry about while he did his job was technically a sign of his leadership prosperity. As he knows, he has enough citizens to make such a thing possible. This made him happy but did not soothe his worries, but in the end all he could do was hope it went well going forward as it had done more or less so far.
