What's Left of the MagCave

[Lord Magtok]

Every evil genius needs a place of relaxation and quiet, a place to hoard his stolen loot, a place to scheme and plot. For Magtok, this is the MagCave. Drilled into the side of Mt. Enn, it serves as his base of operations, living quarters, garage, and workplace. It holds damned damsels in distress, places protagonists in perilous predicaments, and is quite likely the fanciest-looking fortress in all of the Nex-

I'm sorry, what did you say? Two years? This place has been abandoned for two years? Raptor Christ, how did that happen?! We left Sunny in charge, didn't we? What do you mean, she couldn't possibly keep this whole place running, and had to shut it down? She set the Magbots free?! She didn't leave even one chained to its post somewhere?! Sunny Evans, we trusted you! When we throw a nigh-impossible task at you without any warning whatsoever, a task even an entire hivemind of MagClones had trouble with now and then, we expect results! This labyrinthine complex of deadly science experiments and mechanical monstrosities needed you, depended upon you to keep the whole morally suspect and horrendously illegal operation running! How could you possibly let this happen?

...

I suppose it's not all your fault, though. I mean, we could've at least announced our retirement ahead of time or something, or asked you nicely if you wanted to do the job instead of dropping it in your lap without warning, like you don't have a child of your own to raise these days. Still, Magtok can't help but feel a little peeved. When he shouted "Honey, I'm home!" he was expecting some kind of response, even if it was just a Magbot or two yelping in fright. When he strode in, accompanied by a small roomba-looking flying drone, belting out a slightly modified version of 'Prince Ali' to announce his triumphant return, someone was supposed to be here to welcome him!

"Lord Maggy! Fabulous he! Prince of the Nexus," he mutters sardonically, surveying the hideous foliage that's overtaken his entire entrance foyer. This place used to be grand, used to be beautiful, and now there's...now there's ****ing moss growing on the walls. Moss! What kind of supervillain, weirdo nature-themed baddies aside, have mother****ing gross, damp, disgusting moss growing in their lairs?! It's almost enough to make him start setting things on fire. Then, the weird flying roomba switch3s tracks to Bob Dylan's Like a Rolling Stone, and suddenly it is enough to convince him to set things on fire, starting with a ray gun blast to that stupid drone trying to subtly insult him. We know what that song's about, you stupid robot! We know what you were implying, with those lyrics about a fall from grace and wealth!

♫How does it feel, ah how does it feel?
To be on your own, with no direction home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling st-BZZZZT! Yeah, that'll show you, you dumb roomba.

But never mind that. We...we have to fix this. I know we're only supposed to be here to investigate The Faction, that we're not supposed to let anyone know Magtok is even in the Nexus and have explicit orders from the Hivemind High Command to not even so much as look at the MagCave, but we have to. This disaster is an insult to our memory, an absolute disgrace. Our old home should be a proper monument to our far-reaching and eternal influence over the Nexus, not this...not this Ozymandias statue nonsense, not this 'Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' garbage. Yes, we're doing this right now, screw what High Command says. As of right now, this is our true mission. This dead MagCave will live again.

The MagCave Has Returned, Inhabited By Exactly One (1) Undercover Clone. Expect Changes, and Maybe A Double-Post Later

[Lord Magtok]

Okay, so reclaiming the MagCave. That's actually a lot easier said than done, as Magtok quickly discovers. There's a lot more to it than just cleaning up moss, dealing with broken glass, and turning the light switches back on. Five minutes into his initial trek through the complex's first floor, he finds a pack of feral cyberwolves padding about the cafeteria, scavenging whatever they can fine. Things very nearly get very ugly, before he wisely shuts the door, locks it behind himself, and runs like his life depends on it. Okay, so we're not checking out the cafeteria for a few days weeks months, then! That's fine! We're fine! Are you fine with that? Because I'm absolutely fine with that!

There are some things that have been mostly left untouched by the encroaching wilderness, thankfully. One of the bedrooms is still intact, so we can change out of our robe, and into this nifty adventurer gear we found in the closet. Okay, maybe it's less 'adventurer gear' and looks more like some half-assed Indiana Jones Wannabe cosplay, with a few plates of armorweave sewn into the duster, but it's functional, it can take a beating, and we look good in it, and that's what counts! Oh, and there was some synthflesh left growing in one of the labs, which is really gross. Kids, don't leave your synthetic flesh goop just lying around. That's how you wind up with John Carpenter's The Thing, and trust me, you don't want John Carpenter's The Thing. Fortunately the goop didn't think to evolve into a man-eating, shapeshifting abomination before we got here, so we can still slap it over our face and use it to cover up our chrome features when we head out to Inside for supplies. High Command didn't want Magtok talking to anyone or being seen out in public, but to hell with that. Don't want to spend our whole mission skulking about in the dark like some kind of weirdo ninja when there's a perfectly good disguise kit right here.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, Magtok finds his workshop! He still needs to find and reactivate the generator before he can really do anything with this place, but that's a step in the right direction, right? We can look at all these neat power tools, sketch out blueprints for whatever gear or service drones we might make later, and even dream about beating up a Magbot for its own hardwired incompetence some day! So long as we're determined and resourceful, I bet that in just a few short weeks, this place will be almost kinda somewhat not entirely inhospitable! Feeling supremely accomplished already, even though he hasn't even gotten started on his actual mission's objectives, Magtok decides to end tonight's little adventure on his couch, where he quietly sleeps the night away, and prays he didn't leave any of the doors to the cafeteria unlocked. Oh boy, it would really suck if one of those cafeteria doors were still unlocked!

[Deathkeeper]

Cave Entrance

You know, with Commander Wenomir being harassed by the Faction it occurred to Spako that their old base has been reportedly abandoned for months now. Who knows how much Magtok took with him when he left? There could be treasure, jewels, or embarrassing photos from Thanksmas parties that they could use against the clones.

So this clone's Joseph Joestar cosplay session might be interrupted by the brass-gold-silver kobold's intrusion, attempting to simply get in the entrance as was documented in Vigil's computers, as it's not like Magtok's dramatic exit of the organization was capable of removing something that was otherwise common knowledge. Though he probably removed any note of secret entrances. Our hero is dressed in trousers, his black and green pendant, and his belt with sword, rod, deck, and spellbook.

Spoiler

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[Lord Magtok]

Cave Entrance

Three years ago, some sort of alarm would go out, Magtok would instantly be made aware there's someone at his door, and he'd rush to get something together and figure out how to greet them. Allies would be greeted with smiles, enemies with overwhelming contempt left unveiled or concealed behind an open grin, and unknown strangers such as lizard guy here would be questioned, appraised, and studied like another one of his many laboratory projects.

Today is not three years ago, however. Magtok's still sleeping on that couch when his new visitor arrives. The magnificent iron door styled after Magtok's own face has been left unbarred and unguarded, mostly because our cyborg didn't expect anyone else would think to visit this gross, mossy dump. I mean, near as he can tell, he's the only sapient being who's been here in ages, why would he need to worry about burglars, assassins and guests now?

The cyberwolf pack rests at the top of the staircase, huddled together for warmth. They're sleeping right now, but if our visitor isn't careful, that could change very soon. I would advise caution, because cybernetically-enhanced predators are not something one wants to agitate needlessly. Let sleeping dogs lie.

[Deathkeeper]

[Cave Entrance

Well, Spako can't really mask his scent in any meaningful way to a set of cyberwolves, but he can try to minimize his impact on their other senses. Spako shapeshifts into his second of three forms, a pigeon-sized bird, mostly red but with dashes of other, ostentatious colors, and a ridiculous set of eyebrow-feathers.
The King of Saxony tries to simply fly over the wolves without disturbing them.

[Lord Magtok]

Cave Entrance

Oh hey, a bird-of-paradise! Interesting approach to the problem, very interesting. One of the cyberwolves looks apprehensive for just a moment, agitated by the flutter of wings, but it settles back down soon enough, once it understands that Spako isn't a goose. Goofy eyebrows are fine, ruby red laser eyes are not. The family is safe for now, but if that strange-smelling purple biped returns, the pack may need to go deeper into the cave, seek out its meal somewhere safer from such bizarre threats.

Speaking of bizarre threats, Magtok still hasn't noticed his home's shapeshifting intruder. This is bad, because his living room is up on that second floor, along with a few bathrooms, a bedroom, and some other relatively mundane spaces. Most of these doors have been locked up, so Magtok can pretend he has some sort of control over his environment, but that should hardly be any trouble to someone with a spell book.

[Deathkeeper]

Second Floor

Oh, shoot. Spako had wanted to conserve energy and stay in that shape, but it looks like locked doors are ahead of him, which his feeble little wings can't push open.
The bird has to turn back into a kobold so he can fetch his lock picks from his belt and get to work. True, his real form could probably push the doors open by brute force but making noise with a pack of wolves nearby seems like a poor idea.

[Lord Magtok]

but making noise with a pack of wolves nearby seems like a poor idea.

"Stay back!" the living room's tenant insists, hiding unseen behind the couch and firing a loud warning shot goes out just as Spako finishes unlocking the door. There's a faint smell of ozone and molten chrome wall tile just a few inches to the left of his head. I guess someone finally awoke and heard the jingle of lockpicks. You can be sure the cyberwolves heard that sound, but without looking back, there's no real way to determine how they've chosen to respond to such violence. I'd be concerned if I were Spako.

[Chaotic Bob]

[The Staircase]

How did the cyberwolves react? Did they react like a black cat suddenly existed before them, sitting the floor with that imperious look so befitting their kind?
Because one did.

Its tail flicks back and forth as it watches them, an air of challenge being freely presented.
Meow.

[Deathkeeper]

Second Floor

"Squatters? Seriously?" groans the kobold, who brazenly opens the door anyway, an orange rune shining in his left hand.
"You can't hurt me with heat, you know." he announces flatly to the room.

[Lord Magtok]

Second Floor

"Maybe I have another weapon, then! Do you really want to stick around and find out?" Magtok threatens, trying really hard to ignore that squatters jab. We're not a squatter, this is our rightful home! We just...we can't let you know that, because otherwise people might start raising a fuss and causing trouble for the MagCollective. He hurriedly reaches into a pocket and starts lathering that synthflesh over the left side of his face, hoping it'll stick in place and look real enough to fool his visitor before it's too late. He probably should've removed his very obviously chrome left arm if he didn't want to be recognized, though.

Staircase

One of the cyberwolves lunges, sufficiently distracted by the new arrival to forget about the scary goose-sounding noise. Easy meal, right? Just a tiny, dumb little creature that wandered in and didn't know any better. Nowhere near enough meat on the feline to feed the entire family, but it'll help sate that voracious hunger for a moment, surely.

[Chaotic Bob]

[The Stairway]

This might end up being somewhat of an embarrassing meal then.

The cat jumps as the cyberwolf lunges, moving forward with the intent to daintily land on the poor thing's snout before continuing on to another spring 'n a jump landing behind it.
Possibly into the middle of the pack, but regardless directly into that same challenging little sit position.

Another flick of a tail.
Meow.

[Lord Magtok]

The Stairway

There's more snapping of jaws and growling at the cat, and soon the other cyberwolves join in. Those shiny chrome enhancements didn't make them any smarter, just faster and meaner. They don't realize how completely outmatched they are, and aren't likely to wise up and back off so long as this taunting continues.

[Deathkeeper]

Second Floor

"If you did have one, you would have just said that you did, pothoc. Now put that thing down, I don't wanna get my sword out for this.""
Spako I hate to tell you but that's a dagger. It's just big enough to be a sword for you. Bilbo did it first.

[Chaotic Bob]

[The Stairway]

The cat would be smiling if that was a thing that cats did.

Something that cats do do, however, is run rather quickly. In this particular instance, run very quickly between some cyberwolf legs and straight down the stairs away from everyone else.
Cue one merry little chase around the MagCave?

[Lord Magtok]

Second Floor

"Maybe my back-up weapon is the cyberwolves, and the only reason I haven't called them in is because-" Magtok shuts up, hearing cyberwolves barking and growling and gnashing their jaws. Oh crap, we'd better get that door shut right this second, cyberwolves are bad news! "Okay fine, get in and lock the door behind you, but don't look behind this couch. I'm a medusa, and I'll turn you to stone with a single wayward glance," Magtok lies shamelessly, hurriedly trying to make himself look as human as possible before Spako gets any closer.

Down the Stairs!

After that cat! Get it get it get it! Bark bark bark bark! These are some very persistent wolves, and they'll probably follow the cat around all over the place until they exhaust themselves. They're not used to facing anything capable of outrunning their unnaturally swift cyberlegs.

[Chaotic Bob]

[Around the MagCave]

The cat at least gives the wolves a pretense of a winnable chase. Occasionally slows down just enough for a nip at the tail to seem realistic, before pulling ahead again.
At some point when they seem to be flagging, it runs into the first exit-less room it can find, where it patiently waits at the far end of the room.

As soon as they enter, it disappears and the door will close.
What cat?

[Lord Magtok]

Around the MagCave => First Floor Bathroom

Duped! Bamboozled! Smeckledorfed! The cyberwolves pad about in the confined space, angry as ever, and without a stupid cat to chase around anymore. Where did it go? How did it get away?! They claw at the door for a little while, until they realize that's completely pointless, and eventually settle down. Oh gods, I hope the next person to try to use that bathroom knocks first.

[Deathkeeper]

Second Floor

Spako rolls his eyes and shuts the door and snaps the latch.
"I swear, if you're trying to arm something you're making a bad decision." the kobold warns. But really, threats coming from a kobold just can't be taken seriously. I mean they can, but it's hard, with their tiny, yappy voices.
Magtok can smear flesh on his face all he wants, but he'll probably need a fake eye if he's going to fool anyone. Did he forget he has a bright red one?

[Lord Magtok]

Second Floor

Behold, the wonders of synthflesh! It takes care of things like that little eye issue no problem, though it does look a little weird if anyone examines it too closely. Nobody's eye should appear that small and flat, and getting the blinking to synch up can be tricky for the first few minutes or so.

"Okay congrats, you've found the living room I've been sleeping in. The generator's down so if you want to steal the TV, you can go right ahead, but the couch is mine," the grumpy cyborg squatter claims, picking himself up from behind the couch, now that he's relatively sure no one could possibly guess who he is.

[Deathkeeper]

Second Floor

"Nice snakes, Medusa. You trying to shave while you were back there?" asks the kobold, suspicious about what all that preparation was about. Maybe he was just putting pants on?
"I'm not here for the TV; I don't think the fort even has outlets. Ugh, if you're here I'm guessing the place has already been cleared out? Was hoping something neat would be left, at least a computer."

[Lord Magtok]

Second Floor

"It has outlets, they're just useless," Magtok insists, completely misunderstanding what Spako meant by 'the fort.' "Like I just told you, the generator's down. It's all the way down-I mean, it's probably all the way down in one of the lowest sub-basements, guarded by all kinds of runaway science experiments, lasgeese, and other horrible things. The elevator's shut down too, so there's no fast, convenient way down there. I hope you can arrange for some kind of teleport or something, because if you plan to carry an entire computer from here back to the marketplace, the cyberwolves will take your legs off and then start nibbling on your screaming face." Eeeeugh. Quite a gruesome picture you're painting, Not-Medusa. Are you sure you want to put so much energy into driving away the only intelligent life form for miles? Would it be that difficult to trick him into doing some sort of menial chores or exploration for you?

[Deathkeeper]

Second Floor

Spako shakes his head.
"First off, Haversack." the kobold says, shaking his little pack.
"Second, wolves, no matter what augmented with, can't pierce dragon scales. And third, if the elevator is down just open up the doors with a prybar and slide down the shaft. Duh."

[Lord Magtok]

Second Floor

"Listen, I've fought dragons before. They aren't that impressive, and you could be wearing all the magical diamonds in the world on your leg, but if a wolf grabs hold and twists...I mean, dragon bone is still bone, right?" Well, mostly. There's a reason dragon bones are used to craft so much weird fantasy nonsense like armor and clubs and warhammers, Magtok.

"If you have a crowbar and want to go down there and flip a few switches, though, be my guest. I'll trade you the AntMag helmet if you can get the TV and lights back on without killing yourself," the not-cyborg offers, pulling the aforementioned helmet out from under the couch. The power to control ants might be pretty invaluable to the right person, but the helmet's batteries are dead and it looks ridiculous. Nobody's going to take those giant purple antennae seriously.

[Deathkeeper]

Second Floor

"Sounds like you fought some wimpy cousins of mine." the kobold scoffs.
Spako you were there and helped Krait and Ghoul slay a dragon and you had no problem going Rules of Nature on it.
"You're offering me...a prop? Do you have anything better? Is there any copters lying around? I'm not expecting gold to be lying around but I don't think goofy looking plastic is going to help me or the Commander. Not that I expect Magtok to have any swords lying around." Wenomir doesn't even need any extra swords Spako.

[Lord Magtok]

Second Floor

"If you really don't want power over ants, fine. I'll be Ant God, Emperor of Invertebrates instead," Mag says, casually lobbing the thing over one shoulder, sending it somewhere unimportant offscreen. He's just a tad miffed by Spako's immediate rejection of his goofy purple helmet. Inconsiderate ingrate, see if we ever offer you anything so wonderful ever again. "If you want a helicopter you're better off looking somewhere else. There's a Tyrannosaurus mech with that shoots beams when it roars in the garage, though. Only a little bit of rust. Might be able to get it running again, if you can fit the whole thing in your magical purse." Someone's definitely bitter about the AntMag helmet rejection.

[Deathkeeper]

Second Floor

Spako tilts his head.
"Oh did it actually do something? You gotta lead with that. I never paid attention to any of the Mag stuff, let alone his ancient history. Does he still have any fans? Maybe if there's any robes in the closet without laser moth holes I can get us some funding from them." ponders the kobold. Well he didn't call it a dress. That's something.

[Lord Magtok]

Second Floor

Swear to god we're going to punch this stupid kobold right in his stupid kobold face. Ancient history. He's calling us ancient history, the little lizardy punk. Do it, Magtok. You know you want to. Punch him in his scaly face, show him how useless thick scales are when dealing with a bludgeon instead of a blade.

"What are you even trying to fund by looting this place? Have you considered getting into currency exchange?" It's how Magtok made a frighteningly large amount of his money, actually. Lots of people in the Nexus with so many bizarre forms of currency, and different ideas regarding the value of a pound of gold. Things have probably settled down since he first started using MagMart to exploit that market, so I don't know how viable such currency manipulation would be these days. It certainly wouldn't be a moral way of making money, that much is for sure.

[Deathkeeper]

Second Floor

"Eh, buncha stupid rogue Magclones are trying to frame Wenomir for blowing up one of their choppers. Because you know, the Commander is really someone to blow people up on a whim. I don't think their little campaign is working but I could still use some dirt? And barring that the island could really use an engine or something so we can actually move it around. That would be great." Spako says, staring off into the distance.

[Lord Magtok]

Second Floor

"Well if you need a giant engine you could have a look at what's keeping Skyside aloft, but I don't know what kind of dirt you might find here that would work on renegade MagClones," Magtok frowns, rubbing at his left arm anxiously. Of course. It had to be someone from VIGIL, the one group he wanted to keep this secret from, even more so than the traitors in Riverside. The one visitor we get is a filthy scavenging kobold trying to rob us on behalf of those irritating, self-righteous ponces. He thought those demons put their organization to rest shortly before he left, how in the world did they bounce back from that?

"I think I saw some blueprints in the workshop. The HindenMag might have what you're looking for. There's also the King in Purple, but I don't know if you guys want to devote that kind of time and resources to a project that could easily jeopardize the entire universe," Mag shrugs. There's also the chance to go irrevocably insane like Needs Food Badly did in the process of creating the KiP, but it was a small price to pay, acceptable losses. There was an unspoken 'whose airship is bigger' game the Nexus was playing at the time, and you know Magtok couldn't possibly let the Empire win if he could avoid it.