Aldrich Asimov, the Iron Geneticist
My mind is much too large to be acquitted to a position as low as an assistant. Nor does it have enough room as a scientist. Only when it is elevated to a level of its own caliber will the world see the full breadth of my genius.
~ Aldrich Asimov ~
Ambitious Desire
The ambitious and charismatic elf known as Aldrich Asimov has aspired for a prestigious role in life for hundreds of years since he was a child. Like most Teneleans, he rejected the old, meditative traditions of his kind that had been born in Endolin. And in 1,225 when Zara Civilius III came to power over Tenelea, Aldrich was eager to swim in the wave of reforms she brought.
Witnessing the transformation of a cultural country into a military empire was fascinating to Aldrich, but what he enjoyed more was this new empire's interesting focus on technology. Having a keen mind and a boundless curiosity, Aldrich's patronage was valuable, impressive, and groundbreaking. His research into the natural sciences, given a little more time and effort, was surely going to land him a space within the imperial nobility. Perhaps even at the empress' side.
But, someone beat him to the punch.
The man's name was Camus Petfir, another elf whose mind was just as ambitious as Aldrich's. Despite the fact the boy was centuries younger, Aldrich found himself delegated to the role of an assistant underneath him, regulated to work on the projects Camus determined.
Aldrich was less than pleased. He didn't deny the potential Camus possessed, nor did Aldrich rebuke the results Camus brought to the table. But, he knew his intellect was far too great to be wasted in such a low position. He wanted - needed - to be more than what society told him to be. He desired a position like Camus', where he could enjoy the full prospects of his genetic hypotheses.
For many years, he couldn't find an opportunity for it. Anytime he spoke up, he earned little more than the ridicule of the Inquisitors he worked under. And on a few occasions, when he would try to kill Camus himself in secret, external circumstances cut his efforts short. Though he wasn't caught, he was still dissatisfied.
In 1,525, the War of Turmoil began, in which the Tenelean Empire struck out against the entire continent. As a result, the funding of Camus' natural research skyrocketed, and Aldrich began to believe these moments were the final nail in the coffin. With so many backing Camus' efforts, who could Aldrich possibly convince to stand against the man?
But, five years later when the Tenelean Empire signed off on the Armistice of Westerin that officially brought the war to an end, things started to change. Aldrich noticed a change in Camus' attitude as his funding was suddenly cut severely. Camus started to become frantic to find anyway to reassert his research to the status it had been before, and because of it Aldrich started to wonder if a chance was presenting itself to him.
Sure enough, that chance came into full view during one night while Aldrich was alone in Camus' laboratory. He had simply been asked to clean up the place and dust it out, but came across very incriminating evidence on Camus. The sheets he found, the plans he read through all detailed a meticulous and underhanded operation to cause the empire to break the armistice and restart the war.
Such a plot was cause for treason at its highest degree... and Aldrich didn't hesitate to rat the man out.
Camus' plans were exposed before the Court of Civilius. Even though Camus was nowhere to be found, Aldrich's wish came true when Camus was decreed as a traitor and his acclamations and titles were stripped from him. With Camus' spot open, Aldrich was sure the nobility would finally recognize him and what he had to offer.
However, things did not play out as he hoped.
Instead of being recognized for his genius, the entire wing that Camus had run was shut down and dissolved. All of his research was scrapped, and his equipment - which Aldrich regularly used - was confiscated by the Inquisitors. And Aldrich received no recognition whatsoever as he, along with Camus' other former assistants, were put out of work.
Fury, anger, and rage could not convey how displeased Aldrich was, and he did not shy away from putting it on full display before the courts. He made it very clear the kind of genetic research he could discover if these leaders could just give him the power to do so, and that to cast it out otherwise was dimwitted.
For a second, he felt glad when the courts finally agreed to give him a researcher's position, as well as a seat in the Court of Civilius. He accepted the court's position but cared nothing for it. What he cared for was his new role as a scientist... which was as a subordinate underneath a High Inquisitor named Tal Authorus.
Aldrich, like many others, knew of the man well, and that included how manipulative, conniving, and tricky he was. And as the man's subordinate, Aldrich's research was once again regulated by the kind Tal Authorus ordered him to perform.
Despite all Aldrich had done to get out of his role as an assistant, his actions had only landed him as an assistant to someone else.
Project Wrought
Under Tal Authorus, Aldrich learned how much more restrictive Tal was as opposed to Camus. As the years went by with change in the room Aldrich had to work with, he relinquished himself to believe that, in the four-hundred years he's lived, there was just no chance for him to gain what he'd been chasing for so long. Like a puppet for Tal Authorus, Aldrich worked on the research the man decided on. During this time, Aldrich met another scientist who worked in his same position under Tal. Her name was Elinor and he grew fascinated by the fact she possessed the same devout interest in the natural sciences like he did. The two fell in love and married each other a year later. Slowly, Aldrich started to grow attached to the life he was now living. Near that time in 1,533, Aldrich was finally approached by Tal with a very favorable proposition. Tal spoke of a process in the empire that would take decades to complete. Then, the empire's final war would begin. In the meantime, Tal gave Aldrich a branch of his own that he instructed was to make the perfect soldiers in anyway Aldrich saw fit. Suddenly, Aldrich gained the tools and the funding necessary to accomplish all he had dreamt to do. The only thing he lacked was test subjects, to which Tal told him to figure out a way. His methods were always unconventional, so grown nobles were scarce to go along with being guinea pigs. Instead, Aldrich was forced to look for those who were younger, poorer, and who wouldn't be remembered if an experiment went... awry. Orphans. Aldrich started collecting orphaned children into his genetic projects. Injected with serums and alchemical liquids Aldrich still had yet to perfect, many of his first experiments went... awry. Suffice it to say, the body's blood burned and boiled through the body until nothing but the skeleton remained. It was a dangerous side effect that was appropriately named Bloodwrought, which Aldrich's project was also titled. This was the first generation of Project Bloodwrought, a complete failure. The second generation showed better results. Many still died, but some lived long enough to show changes in body structure, physical aptitude, and weaving proficiency. But, by the time the third generation of Aldrich and Elinor's "children" came around, the second generation had already died off. This new generation showed even better results than the last. Very few died during the initial injections, and the rest lived long past the previous generation. By the time this generation fully matured, the Great War of Westerin began, just as Tal had told him about. As Aldrich prepares to usher in the fourth generation of Project Bloodwrought, a generation he says will be nothing like before, the four children of the third generation march to help win the war, but most of all maximize Aldrich's results as tools. They are One, Five, Seven, and Nine.The difference between Aldrich's experiments and mine is simple. Mine are designed to live on. His are designed to die fighting.
~ Dr. Srife von Stauer ~
Species
Date of Birth
15th of Majeeneth
Year of Birth
1121 AC
Children
Belief/Deity
Zanreer, the Cosmic Warrior
Aligned Organization
One of One
Aldrich could see his face in the reflection of the window just in front of him. Perhaps he could have given his hair a little more attention today, but better luck next time he supposed.
"Sir," one of Aldrich's assistants mentioned at his shoulder, "it's time to step back. The procedure is starting."
"Good." Aldrich responded, taking two steps back. Suddenly, he felt fingers interlace with his own fingers on his right before seeing his lovely wife, Elinor lean next to him.
"This is it, dear. All we've been preparing for." Aldrich gave a subtle nod. She had no idea how long he'd waited for this moment.
They both stared through the indoor window to the room that existed just beyond it. Inside was only a single wood table and a secondary end table supporting various medical tools... including several syringes that Aldrich eyed with utmost intensity.
On the main table, a small boy - he couldn't be any older than sixteen - rested on it with his arms and legs strapped down, preciously sedated.
Aldrich couldn't help but think back to the moment Tal Authorus had come to him with the proposition that inevitably brought him here now as a scientist over his own project. After centuries of ambition, Aldrich was finally going to see the fruits of his labor.
Slowly, three other lab coats entered that room through the heavy door that was the only way in or out. Even from here, Aldrich heard it shut with a low thud, followed by the numerous clicking of locks.
One of the lab coats looked toward the window Aldrich was peering through as the two others gathered around the tables.
It was time. Aldrich calmly nodded in his direction, and the lab coats set to work.
First came the wipes that they washed over the vital veins of the arms and legs. Then came the fun part. Cautiously, one of the lab coats picked up a syringe that swelled with Aldrich's murky purple concoction.
One of them weaved small globules of light into being just above the test subject, giving clear light as the syringe was angled toward an arm. Aldrich felt Elinor look away briskly as the syringe was injected into the boy, the full dose being poured into the vein.
Aldrich saw the boy give no reaction. The sedative was working precisely as intended.
Next came the three other syringes, one injected into the other arm, and the final two injected into each leg. It was a deathly quiet procedure that seemed like any small noise might screw everything up.
But, the last syringe was placed back onto its end table as the lab coats all backed away towards the walls. Now all that was left to do was watch.
For minutes, nothing changed. The boy just laid there, fully asleep. Aldrich couldn't even spot any irregular pulse in those veins. He began to doubt if the serum was even taking effect. Judging by his wife's growing intention to get antsy, she was having her doubts too.
She squeezed his hand and turned to him, "Perhaps we should sto-"
In that instant, the boy's eyes shot open as the restraints holding him to the table suddenly snapped and were flung across the room. The boy lurched into an upright sitting position, scratching at his whole body maddeningly as if fleas infested every inch of it.
In a crazed panic, the lab coats cowered into a far corner of the room while the boy toppled down to the ground. Rolling from side to side, it became clear to Aldrich the boy was writhing in pain. But, he only wondered what results it would bring.
Suddenly the boy lurched to his feet, running over to the lab coats, crying out for help. Wildly, he grasped at them as if they held the key to a cure. They screamed in fear, and one even cried out as Aldrich saw one's arm get crushed by the boy's grip.
The boy's attention shifted as his crying didn't stop. Turning away, he ran over and slammed into the window just in front of Aldrich as he noticed something starting to come off him. Was that... smoke?
The boy was smoking as if he was burning alive.
Helplessly, the boy cried out for help as Aldrich witnessed the unthinkable. The boy's blood began to seep out of his skin like cracks in the stone, and it was bubbling from how hot it was. The boy's blood was burning him from the inside out.
Elinor rushed out of the room trying to keep herself from throwing up, but Aldrich simply watched on as the child fell to the floor, soaking in the boiling blood that in minutes burned him down to the skeleton.
Aldrich breathed a sigh. "Make the conclusion," he said to the assistant still beside him, "One of One. Failure."
We are not raising children, we are forging weapons.~ Aldrich Asimov
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