Tharus can be such a fool sometimes
Usually, the results are inconsequential, sigh-worthy at best.
But he- no, all of us wizards. We all made a terrible mistake that one day that ended up haunting us for the centuries to come.
This was the story of how we tried to create the perfect soldiers but ended up paying the price.
***
We weren’t the first to decide to construct our own army from scratch. The warlocks did it first, creating the Broken Eight and the illagers in the process.
However, Tharus did feel threatened by their presence.
Oh, Tharus. Tharus, Tharus, Tharus.
A man who could never be pleased, and instead of gazing down at the valleys he surpassed, chose to scowl up at the clouds that offended him with their height.
If the warlocks had already engineered their supposedly “superior” soldiers, he argued, why couldn’t the wizards as well?
It was a compelling thought that, shamefully, many of us couldn’t recognize the warning signs in.
Everyone knew of the terror the Broken Eight sowed through the land- they had been released for barely a moment in the Farlands’ history, and they were already cementing themselves as timeless urban legends.
So, could you really blame us when we felt the need to strike back?
The verdict was made. And so, began our quest to construct the perfect creature.
Tharus already set many requirements for what he wanted them to be- and as the list went on, we discovered that, not shockingly at all, he wanted the creatures to match his own supposed wit and prowess.
“If they cannot,” he claimed, without hesitation, “This war has already been lost.”
A tall order indeed. Where were we even to begin?
We first began by researching the warlocks’ own living weapons. We needed to start with a base creature and improve them from there.
The Broken Eight were each linked to a direwolf on the day of the experimentation. Reports have shown both rider and animal to work in perfect harmony on the battlefield. The partners cover each other’s blindspots.
This was something we took into consideration deeply. No matter how strong, how fast, how cunning a single creature may be, they will always have a weakness that could be exploited. The addition of another being into the mix could help alleviate those weaknesses.
With this in mind, we jumped straight into action. Weaving together various types of monsters, combining their traits- hoping that maybe one combination would finally click…
Unfortunately, all we made were horrific chimeras and distorted versions of familiar monsters.
We quickly abandoned that idea and retreated back to the Tower. The attempted fusion of mob species had both drained our powers and the landscape in which we experimented, and we were still no closer to our original goal.
Our second plan was thoroughly inspired by Janus herself. The zombie she has attached to the back of her head allows her to see attacks coming from behind, and also have someone to turn to for advice. She and Ku-San, she argues, are a formidable pair.
Although she was not originally present for this project, we still took her extra consciousness as a starting point. Each mind could support the weaknesses of the other, and would hopefully create a balance.
Two heads were better than one, it seemed. It was an odd design choice that Tharus himself raised a brow at, but we were persistent.
We continued to make dreadful creations. At first, we chose to choose a different mob species for the second head- however, it became too difficult for either mind to control the body. An eight-legged spider does not know how to walk as a bipedal skeleton.
So, both heads had to be of the same species. But we continued to run into other problems. The addition of an extra weighted head caused physical balance issues.
And fusing two heads together ended up with both creatures’ thoughts melting together into an incomprehensible mess. The two-faced mobs all eventually went insane.
Each failure more horrific than the last, it seemed as if our idea truly was mad. But it also seemed to be the only way to combat the creations of the warlocks- we had to create something they had never created before, a unique mob that would be so exotic they would have difficulty countering it. While the warlocks could only think of amplifying the strength of their zombies, we had to think of unique design choices. And we were insistent that extra heads was a good start.
Reflecting on our previous failures, we decided to create two completely separate heads for each consciousness- instead of two faces fused into one head like Janus had done. Then, both minds would only think thoughts of their own, and remain mostly sane. The heads would have to be propped up on a rack of some kind, to hold them.
We still faced balancing issues. Skeletons’ brittle bones would collapse under the weight of the second head plus the rack. Spiders lost their one advantage of agility once they had to carry that weight. Zombies… well, the Broken Eight could easily counter whatever we tried to do with zombies.
None of the mobs of this world seemed fit for our exotic idea. So, I suppose we had to venture out into an exotic place for the mobs we were seeking.
The Nether.
Not even the warlocks would have chosen to go this far. And I suppose that’s why it was such a great idea.
Thankfully, we did not engage with the dimension long, as we immediately had our eyes set on the burnt skeletons that lived there. Wither skeletons as they were called.
Strong. Strong bones that could easily carry heavy armor when normal skeleton bones couldn’t.
Terrifying. They loomed an extra block above the common undead, with a soulless look in their eyes that begged for destruction.
And extrinsic. Their withering touch was unlike anything of that found in the Overworld- like the poison of the cave spiders, but terribly evil.
This was our perfect base mob- the mob that would help us mold our own living weapons. We dismantled the bones of those wither skeletons and returned to the Tower to begin experimenting yet again.
Our first result was a success. A two-headed wither skeleton that was twice as vicious as a normal one, and ever bent on violence. A decent foot soldier for the army.
But Tharus was not pleased.
“No, no, no,” he scowled, mocking our months of work, “This will not do.”
We attempted to confront him about his sourness. And like always, his arrogant mind demanded better from us.
“You cannot hope to send out mindless skeletons against the warlocks’ mindless skeletons of their own, and expect to win. We need to create the superior species. They must be intelligent as us wizards, with power to at least match the Broken Eight, and the agility of their terrible direwolves.”
And so we continued to toil away. Attempting to make our two-headed wither skeleton the best it could be.
If two heads are better than one, then why can’t three heads be better than two? We agreed. Three heads would be triple the intelligence of a single one. The presence of a middle head with a single head on either side also created a fantastic balance. The center head was neutral in its thoughts, while the other heads represented two extremes.
Two heads was too little. Four heads too many. Three was truly the holy number for an unholy creature such as this.
As you may expect, this constant revision process was very tiring for the ones who were working on this living weapon project. Still, we were young back then, and loved to jest with each other. On one day, we discussed how exactly we would present the final product to Tharus. I believe Baltheron suggested a “Tada.” Hephelis followed that up with a “wha-za.”
And what resulted was a small group of normally stoic wizards all suggesting frivolous and nonsensical presentation phrases. A “ka-boom,” and a “shazam,” and a “ra-ha” passed by until suddenly someone suggested a “ka-za.”
Kaza. How amusing. I believe I jokingly suggested that was how we would introduce the name of this specimen to Tharus, but it seemed like everyone else enjoyed the idea as well.
So the decision was finalized. Our personal creature would be named Kaza.
This was one of the only enjoyable moments I shared with the other wizards, the day where everyone behaved like a fool. Happy fools that forgot about the war they were all forced to fight, just for a single day.
All the while, Tharus continued to shamelessly criticize our work.
“It must strike fear in our enemies’ eyes. It must punish them with everlasting consequences.”
Using our magic, we allowed the creature- Kaza- to channel the unstable magic of souls, so that it would produce explosions at will. Giant craters in the territory of our enemies would be a burning reminder of the power we wizards held over them.
“It must outmaneuver any that chose to chase it. No one could hope to even approach it.”
Through the manipulation of even more magic from the souls, we gifted our creation the power of flight- a rare ability that not many other mobs of this world had. We hoped it would give it a height advantage. However, the legs of the wither skeleton seemed to only serve as obstacles to its flight, so we removed them. The extra weight freed up by the removal was then distributed to the ribcage and spine, to make the bones of the creature thicker and more resilient.
“It must know its weaknesses and account for them appropriately.”
We realized that the only chance of defeating Kaza would be from a distance- in other words, archers and their arrows. We imbued a spectral shield into it that would deflect these projectiles, but we were unable to stop it from weighing its flight down. Instead, the creature must understand when to use it over its flight.
“It must match the intelligence of us wizards.”
That seemed to be the one trait that Tharus cared most about. He insisted that he be the one to channel his magic and intelligence into the mob, and no one else, as he “was the smartest of us all.”
The process was done, and now we had a truly sentient construction right in front of us.
We offered Kaza to Tharus, who was still skeptical of the powers of our design. He insisted we release Kaza into the battlefield as a test, while he would be watching nearby.
And that was it. We could not object or argue against him, and only pass the leash onto him. That was the only way to satisfy him.
We anxiously waited for him and our creation to come back. If Kaza didn’t make it back from the battle alive- well, our months of work would have all been for nothing.
When Tharus did eventually come back, with Kaza in tow, he had a terrifying look in his eyes. Like that of an NPC discovering an entire mountain of emeralds, or a wolf upon seeing an entire field of bunnies in front. Hungry. Anxious. Determined. And the words he uttered only confirmed my thoughts.
“We need more of them.”
Looking back, we should have stopped at Kaza. We shouldn’t have tried to create an entirely new race of creatures- perfect in every way.
Unfortunately, all of us wizards were drowned in the addicting feel of success. This was our flawless creation- we needed to create more to show to our enemies. We just couldn’t see far enough to notice the consequences that we were fast approaching.
Each new creature would take three wither skeleton skulls and four blocks of soul sand, from which it would draw its powers from. We made them en masse, immediately sending them to the battlefield after creation.
We never truly gave consideration to the species name. Someone suggested we simply call them withers, after their withering effect. Simple, but we did not care for fancy names, as seen with Kaza.
Withers- wizards- looking back, the similarities in pronunciation were uncanny.
The more we made, however, the more we grew terrified of our own children. We had made them perfect, yes, but perfect enough to challenge their creators.
Tharus finally used his expertise for once when he began to grow concerned about mutiny amongst the withers. He and a few other wizards worked on creating three crowns that would exercise their rule over the withers- improved versions of the zombie warlock’s
Helmet of Control.
These crowns of skulls, Tharus reassured us, would amplify the greatest desire of the skeletal beings- that being destruction- by ten-fold, making them unable to even think of anything other than destroying their enemies. They would not even consider overthrowing their masters during this time.
For a bit, all of us enjoyed victory on the battlefield. The fruits of our labor had finally come, and nobody was more delighted with the withers than Tharus was.
Vicious.
Cunning.
Quick.
Sharp.
They were everything he could have ever wanted from a living weapon.
And yet, we should have realized what happened in the aftermath of the Broken Eight and their warlock masters.
A weapon will always fight for their wielder- true, but what of it when the weapon is conscious? Intelligent? Unfeeling, and a demonic force that could sweep through entire lands?
Free will… such a dangerous thing sometimes. None of us- not the wizards, not the warlocks- should have decided to give ultimate power to a set of unstable creatures.
Now, we all knew from the start that the withers did not choose to follow us from the goodness of their hearts. They were anchored to their masters, us, by the controlling powers from the crowns of skulls. But that still didn’t make the betrayal any less devastating.
And it was from our original wither nonetheless- Kaza. Though, that may be what made us so more gullible.
Us wizards actually enjoyed Kaza’s presence. Of course, he had his arrogance from Tharus himself, but Kaza was witty. He provided excellent thoughts. He was like a Tharus that was more present in our lives, and we quickly forgot about the violent acts of his species when we spoke with him. That was how charismatic he was.
One day, however, Kaza managed to convince Tharus to hand over a crown of skulls to him. Perhaps the wither suggested that it would help him kill more enemies on the battlefield. Maybe the wizard thought Kaza, his prized creation, trustworthy enough to show him their newest creations.
Either way, it was a terrible mistake.
And the heartbreaking part was that somehow, we knew deep down that Kaza had planned this ever since the crowns were first made.
Using the crown, Kaza quickly rallied all the withers to his side. Together, they immediately switched alliances- now we were their enemies.
There is nothing more terrifying than when you realize that nothing is in your control anymore.
Maybe it was never in our control ever since we gifted Kaza with consciousness.
The quest to make the perfect species- now we were asking for trouble. Was this the universe’s method of punishing us for flying too close to the sun? Always asking for a taller castle, bigger, better- and now the world was flipped upside down with the castle coming crashing down on our heads.
The other two crowns were hidden- one in the soon-to-be Cave of Slumber, the other in a remote jungle temple.
However, I do believe the crown of skulls in the jungle temple was found. A wither that defected from Kaza’s army brought a small group of others with him to the temple, where he then found the second crown. I have heard his name was Karkan.
The odd part about him, however, was that his greatest desire wasn’t destruction like the others- it was gold. So, when he put on the crown, instead of seeking out villages to destroy, he instead developed a craving for gold. An addiction that drove him insane, I hear.
Karkan and his small kingdom he attempted to build did eventually succumb to something. I do not know the exact details, but the crown was once again abandoned in the jungle after he fell.
And what of the wizards that lived in the Tower? The topic of the creation of the withers was swept under the rug. Nobody wanted to be responsible for making the monsters that now haunted the Farlands. We should have just blamed Tharus for all of this, as he was the one who pushed us to keep making the withers better in the first place.
So why am I telling you now?
I believe there is a lesson to learn from this- about the concept of creating life. We were too bent on creating an unstoppable weapon- and we truly did. We made an entire race of mobs that had no purpose other than to destroy everything around them, a terrible existence only we can take responsibility for.
And so ends the tale of our efforts to create the withers.
