Dear Diary,

"If Bloodlust is your fear shield, Remember, don't take work home, Your partners don't deserve that." - Tabitha Diaz, Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Bloodlust

As with many of the Verses in the Testament of Domains, in this Verse Tabitha explains to us a potential unfortunate consequence of calling upon the power of her Domains. In this case, she reminds us yet again that Bloodlust is a form of Lust, and makes it clear that should we embrace it, we may not be able to control it when with those whom we might share natural, healthy Lust; our spouses, our lovers, even our dalliances. So should we draw upon the power of Bloodlust, it behooves us to seek counseling after the tasks we embraced it are completed. For like many of our Goddess' gifts, Bloodlust is seductive, and will convince us to hold it within ourselves far longer than is safe for those we care for. - Priestess Most High Above All Others, Archmage Imperator Saffron Aetos-Diaz, Commentary on the Doctrine of Tabitha

Wow. Like, so much to unpack here. At least more of it is good than bad. Sort of.

Yeah, the reason I wrote this Verse is because I know back in the Norfolk campaign I got... really aggressive. Possibly... No, probably unhealthily so. Some folks would probably say that any amount of aggression is unhealthy, but even if they're only talking about the kind of aggression associated with physical violence, there's still some folks who have a need for that shit. Even in a world way closer to perfect than this one, there are still gonna be things like natural disasters, and first responders often need to get violent. A firefighter chopping through a door to rescue somebody trapped in a burning building is still physical violence, even if that firefighter would never knowingly turn it against a human being, let alone a loved one.

But the thing that Kitten recognizes here, and spells out without pulling any punches, is that kind of state of mind is seductive. Addictive. Beyond both of those, it's overwhelming, or it can be. I was just thinking that if I'd seen Isnomi's face on one of the poor Levies I slaughtered during the Battle of the Walls, I don't know if I'd have stopped. I realized right after that I probably would have, because that's almost exactly what stopped me when the dipshits formerly known as Lancaster killed Bonnie. Okay, it was Saffron, not Isnomi, but still, that does make me feel a bit better.

Weird. Back when that happened, I felt so bad about it. I kinda thought I'd lost Saffron for good then. Even after she forgave me, showed me that she was still my ride or die, I still felt some kinda way. Honestly, when I think about it, I still do feel bad for that. But at the same time, I feel bad for hurting the love of my life, not for nearly ending the world. Because that's an important thing. Nearly. I didn't do it. My wife gave me a wake up call, and I woke the fuck up and decided to choose life. So yeah, now I look on that and think that maybe, other than snapping at Saffron when she called me on my shit, I did the right thing. Did a good thing, a mature thing.

Shit, maybe I really have done enough work on my Moral Compass to not be utterly mortified that somebody might look to me as a role model.

So it turns out that the Marshall wasn't kidding about being entirely uncopacetic about me being Mimic. After agreeing to remain my mentor, or become my mentor again, or basically saying we weren't enemies forever or whatever, he nodded, yawned again, and said, "okay. So... Boltophs..."

I waited until I heard the quiet snores leaking out of him. Apparently he hadn't really so much slept as lay there waiting for me to do some unholy tentacle things to him. So I picked him up as gently as I could, freezing every time he twitched, then firmly pressed the sacks he'd been sitting on flat. Okay, as flat as I could press them here in the middle of thousands of tons of Cold Iron. While I'd told him the story of my life here and now thus far, Kitten and I had wowed the crowd around all four Altars, then collapsed back home at sunrise. Well, she collapsed back home. I fell back to just the me aboard my Black Dragon, hidden behind Cold Iron and my Blend.

I did not take undue advantage of the Marshall, despite some temptations in that direction. Seriously, I'm all about Consent, but the man is like sexy Santa Claus with that beard. Fuck I think at some point I'd matured to the point where he was no longer 'ew, too old' and hit the point of 'huh, wonder what he knows'. But still, I was a Good Tentacle Beast and, after making him a nice flat bunk out of potatoes or yams or whatever squashed as flat as I could make them, lay him down gently.

It's not wrong that I did the Anime Girl thing and knelt to let him pillow his head on my thighs. If I tell myself that enough, maybe I'll believe it.

The Marshall is definitely an old soldier. He'd found a spot to sleep, and without sunrise or anybody to wake him, he slept through the rest of the day, then through most of the night. When he finally stirred, I brushed his hair back off his forehead and whispered, "good morning, sleepyhead."

"Diaz," he growled out. "Tell me we have not done something I'm gonna regret at some point in the future."

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Only if you dislike mashed potatoes."

"What the hell are potatoes?"

That got me. I giggled a little. "Would you really be all that upset if Saffron and I slipped into your bunk naked one night?"

He pushed himself upright. "She's my boss. You're... I'm not even sure."

"Your protege?"

He thought for a bit, then nodded. "We can go with that."

I grinned at him. "So, my job is to get you to think Greek in time for Operation Gold Watch."

He almost, but didn't quite, tilt his head. "Why 'Gold Watch'?"

"It's a traditional gift back where I'm from for long term service."

He thought about that. Then said, "I have no idea what to think about that, and I'm gonna do something I'm gonna blame on my protege's bad influence and make it a problem for future me."

I laughed. "Sounds like me all right."

He chuckled along with me. "So, you ready for the quick and dirty briefing on who's who in Boltophsberg?"

"I mean, we've got as long as we need, but sure."

He shifted. "Nah. I gotta take a leak something fierce."

"Yeah, well. we've got time, you could go and come back."

He shook his head at that. "Nope. You got this," he waved his hand around us, "whatever it is up as an anti-scrying thing, right?"

"I do."

"Then we'd best take advantage of it. I'm not having you follow me into the latrine after all that about seduction talk."

I had to laugh at that. "Fair. So. Quick and dirty."

He gave me a 'really, Diaz' look. I'd missed those. "Only you would say that like that." Then he shifted a little, sighed, and said, "Right now Boltophsberg is run by an oligarchy of the heads of five major guilds. It used to be a little more like our own Council, but gradually Guilds got bumped off one at a time, until only five remained. At this point each one allied is loosely with one of the Temples."

"How loosely?"

He frowned at me, but nodded acknowledgement of the need for that bit of nuance. "Each Guild Master has one of the five Deities as a Patron. Having the same Patron as the Guild Master isn't required, but..."

"But it helps if you wanna advance?" He nodded. "Okay, what are the five Guilds?"

"Adventurers, who are basically Heroes, Courtesans, who aren't all prostitutes, Sailors, which includes a lot of merchants and fishermen, Scribes, which includes pretty much all of the wealthy non-Heroes, and Shipwrights. Historically the Shipwrights and Sailors typically align against the Heroes and Scribes, with the Courtesans playing mediator. But lately, especially with how New Amsterdam, Phileo, Calverton, and Norfolk have stopped sniping at one another, the Heroes are trying to beef up the City's defenses, expecting an attack, which is putting more pressure on the Sailors, who have less to give what with Alliance vessels, especially the new Tentacle class, mostly dominating trade along the coast now."

"You think we ought to maybe try to make nice, sell them some ships, make it clear we're not looking for a fight?"

He rocked his head back and forth. "Might make sure shit doesn't spill toward us, but the Guilds are really just looking for excuses. As is the lord of the City."

"You mean..." He shot me a look, and I held my hands up. "Dude can hear his name all the way out here and shit?"

DuBois shrugged. "It's said he can hear it when it's spoken, I figure it's a bad idea to test it when we went to so much trouble to meet in secret."

"Fair. Who are the heads of the Guilds?"

"Senior Courtesan is Danica Novak, her Patron is Lemonkyenin. Chief Scribe is Sonja Novak, no relation, whose Patron is Mokosh. Chief Engineer Boris Horvat is head of the Shipwrights, and follows Pyevatar. Ivan Ivanov heads up the Sailor's Guild, which decided against having a title. They've got the largest membership, and if it comes down to a fight, it'll mostly be them against the Adventurers, headed up by Hero Andre Alexov, who of course follows Perun."

I thought about it for a second. "Ivanov follows Ilmater?"

"You were paying attention when the Imperator briefed you."

"Yep. Despite her having her wicked way with me."

He snorted. "Should have known that's how she kept your attention."

"Yeah, I'm a simple woman. I see magnificent tits, I press like."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'm sending a much longer briefing document back to Phileo with Karen, but do you have any questions?"

I frowned. "Mind if I think it over and send them to you?"

He nodded. "Don't write them down, though. Tell High Priestess Smith, she'll tell me directly; she can bring me here to do so if need be." I gave him a look. "The City's leader is rumored to know anything written on paper within City limits."

"Oh, that's not great. Um... what about your report?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, they can't not know that I'm reporting back. So me writing stuff down isn't surprising. Me not writing stuff down would actually tell them I believe the rumors. If they're true. Or even if they're not and they've got decent spies." He paused. "Anything else?"

I nodded. "Yeah, see if you can get me an invite to visit?"

He sucked his teeth a bit. "I'll do what I can. I've been trying to wrangle an invite for the Imperator, assuming you'd come along as bodyguard. But I'll see about getting you one directly. Uh..."

"Spit out out, Marshall."

He looked me up and down, smiling. "You mind if I maybe hint that you're looking to pick up another addition to your harem?"

I have no idea why I got so pissed, but I congratulated myself on limiting my response to, "Not a harem. Family. Partners. But..." I thought about it for a second, then smiled. "Yeah, you want to put it out there I'm looking for another, sure, worst that happens is that we have to shuffle the bed around. Or maybe see if they'd be willing to let me build a Temple here. Public services, Altar, Revels, the whole thing."

"Really?"

I shrugged. "Look, I've been up since yesterday morning and I'm feeling fine. Worship is a hell of a drug."

He took a deep breath. "That's gonna take some getting used to." Then he slapped his thighs. "Okay, if you've no more questions?"

I shook my head, reached for his hand, and when he clasped it I stepped us both to my quarters, because I remembered the Cold Iron didn't cover the interior walls. He looked at the bed, then shot me another 'really, Diaz' look. I just smiled, waved toward the door into my private bathroom, and said, "heads in there. Lookin' forward to reading your long form briefing."

Really nice to see him looking at me like a dumbass instead of a monster.

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