The Old Vlad sat back in his chair, putting is feet up on the desk. He sipped coffee as he flipped through a variety of Unen papers put out by a trio of Goblin Gunner gangs who had stolen Church of One bible printers.
He saw a running theme of plague spreading in Karov. He suddenly grew very concerned. He didn’t have any ops running in the canyonlands. Which meant someone else did…or worse. Suddenly the Old Vlad got up, if a real plague was spreading, all his plans could be ruined.
He needed this cleaned up quickly. A few comm crystal calls later and messengers were on the way to leaders across the Goblin Lands to mobilize their efforts to get healers down there.
He lifted up a small cigar, and lit it with a plasma torch. He drew in the smoke with gentle glee, and exhaled a long plume. Then his buzzer buzzed.
“Evil Tilde Clone 546, what is it?” asked the Old Vlad.
“Could you please just call me Tilde sir?” asked the clone acting as his secretary. He enjoyed modeling his new office on a dark mirror of his adversary, McMurphy of the New VLAD Agency.
“No I don’t think so. Can’t having you confuse yourself with a real person now,” said the Old Vlad with strange irony, “So what is it?”
“Mr. Dartagnon of Neo Vargas here to see you sir,” said the secretary.
“Let him in,” said the Old Vlad adjusting his tie, “And get the man a drink.”
The door opened revealing a soul taker hosting himself in the body of a plague vampyr. The demonic former servant of the Ancient Evils had coal-black skin, and small horns piercing his head. His hands ended in sharp claws.
“You called me in,” said the plague vampyr angrily, “I told you. When you turned on Colony General Malthus I was out of your service.”
“If that was true Mr. Dartagnon, you wouldn’t have gotten onto my private AAV,” said the Old Vlad uncompromisingly.
“I won’t kill for you anymore,” said the demon host, “I am retired.”
“I know, I know. I just need eyes on the ground. Its a simple in and out spying situation,” said the Old Vlad.
“So why me? Why not Lust or the Roren Brothers?” asked Mr. Dartagnon as the Tilde clone bounded into the room with a martini glass with a pair of banana slices in it.
“The Roren Brothers are dead,” said the Old Vlad, “Lust hasn’t been seen since we lost the research station on the plane of Awareness. And before you ask, General Tharr is dead as well.”
“Good,” said the demon host, “Then after this mission…I am free.”
“We have a deal,” agreed the Old Vlad, “You head down to Karov. Get me a sample of the plague. And find out what is causing it.”
“Why are you going to heal it?” asked Mr. Dartagnon with a smirk.
“You say that like a joke,” said the Old Vlad, “I need a strong Karov if the Armies of Eloga are going to survive the coming months to play their part in my plan. That means I want this mess cleaned up, and quickly.”
Part 2 One Week Later
The Old Vlad saw the plague had now spread to Brez and Tla’loc’al in the Unen papers. Luckily the coast hadn’t seen its first case of the Karovian Plague. The Provisional Colony of 2218 had apparently closed its borders one paper said, and another had a quote from Lord Grimaldus.
“By order of Lord Grimaldus, leader of the Provisional Colony within the Goblin Lands, due to the recent outbreak of Plague in Karov, there shall be a quarantine of the boarder. No one shall be allowed into the Colony’s lands from the lands of Karov until it is confirmed that the outbreak has been eliminated. Anyone coming into these lands from other locations must be checked for signs of disease before being allowed to enter. There are no exceptions. Anyone who attempts to go around these measures will be assumed to be purposefully spreading disease and will be stopped and checked. If they do carry disease they shall be executed and burned, if not they will be escorted to the boarder and removed, violently if necessarily. We thank you for your cooperation and hope that this epidemic fades quickly so the borders can be reopened.”
The Old Vlad slammed the paper down on the desk. He opened the top draw withdrawing a whisky bottle. He poured himself a stiff drink and stared off at the holographic map on his wall.
The door opened up and in walked Mr. Dartagnon looking grim.
“How was the week?” he asked as the demon host grabbed the bottle off his desk and began chugging it until it was empty. Mr. Dartagnon hurled the bottle against the wall of the office. “That good eh?”
The demon host said, “There was a Disease Cult down there. They were hurling people into this pit of filth. I mean it was horrific. There were so many dead and they had been drowned in what looked like a feces slushy. But that wasn’t the worst part. It was only one puzzle piece of what I saw down in Karov.”
“There was a military Unit, the Black Legion of Kalok. Olgogs branded with burn scars using massive War Golems. Their missionaries started converting the locals.” said Dartagnon, “I had to sneak inside to see it happen. It was some sort of lava god shrine or something. And they were hurling the sickly into it alive to die in fire once converted.”
“The Moloch returns again,” said the Old Vlad cryptically, “Do the other Olgogs know about these killings?”