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Abyssal Road Trip - 538 - Path
🕑 Added 2025-08-01 00:05:13 +0000 UTCAmdirlain's PoV - Beastlands
Haggling with Bahamut had been interesting, even though it stirred memories that dug into her fears regarding unknown promises. When they’d agreed on a price, not a promise, she bid him farewell and Planar Shift delivered her to the edge of a grassland in the Beastlands. The wild grasslands were an amalgamation of grasses, low shrubs, and clover growing haphazardly as the bison and other cattle wandered, sampling whatever caught their eye. She observed several locations where the spirits of various herbivores reformed and emerged from the ground after being slain by predators or hunters.
Ten kilometres from her was the Domain of Urtila, the Orc goddess known as the Mother of Hordes.
The petitioners within the Domain dwelt in a tent city that reminded Amdirlain of the West Wind's Court, though the orcs' yurts were emblazoned with banners bearing Orc tribal runes.
Urtila was the mother figure of the oldest Orc Pantheon. Few males worshipped her, and the Domain before Amdirlain showed that with the gathering spots and streets filled with females. Her version of motherhood wasn't the placid role in the house depicted in many Human cultures; instead, ancient customs deemed the Orc females responsible for protecting the young while the hunters roamed far and wide. Every one of her novices endured thousands of hours of weapon training before they could gain her Priest Class. The guards at the outer perimeter wore solid metal armour and carried long spears or swords and brightly decorated kite shields.
Striding towards the Domain, Amdirlain monitored the Orc hunters who stalked among the herds, wearing the emblems of numerous deities. The female orcs moving among the tents possessed a range of green skin tones, from a bright spearmint to nearly black. In contrast with the guards, male hunters wore leather armour and carried javelins or bows. Despite the traditional arms, she noted how many came from very modern worlds and possessed experience with modern and arcane projectile weapons.
The Beastlands are a chaotic place, so modern weaponry and devices wouldn't fare well. Is it just for that reason they revert here, or their deities' preferences?
The guards had eyed her approach but didn't call out or demand her business, so Amdirlain continued until the unmarked edge of the Domain was in arm's reach. Stopping, she eyed several groups of celestials lounging about on the ground, passing wineskins between them. They ignored her for half an hour as she waited calmly, arms by her sides.
Eventually, a thickly muscled female Celestial Orc, with gleaming tusks and four sets of red wings, stalked towards her from among the guards; Amdirlain's eyes were even with her lower ribs.
"These are not your lands, Elf."
Amdirlain kept her hands casually by her sides and didn't bother looking up to make eye contact with the looming Celestial. "I wish to speak to Urtila, Mother of Hordes."
"She has nothing to say to an Elf of any kind, especially one who comes empty-handed."
"I didn't come without a gift, but it's not in the open."
"The only creatures that deceive better than the fey are elves."
Given the various political machinations that she remembered, Amdirlain shrugged. "That would depend on the Elf, yet there are deceptive individuals in all species."
"Already, you hedge your words. Are you going to deny elven treachery now? Make it clear for what reason you seek an audience."
"I first experienced treachery from other sources, but I agree that fey and elves can be treacherous. My purpose isn’t to compare who has suffered worse. I’ve two things to speak to Urtila about: the formithians choking many of the realm's worlds, and an Orc world being crushed under the heels of other oppressors."
"You know of our eternal foes’ lairs?"
"I have the names of dozens of such worlds, and can get more. Though I'd only hand over such information in an audience with Urtila."
"You've not proven your worth to even speak to her least advisor, Elf."
Her interests lie in the increase of the clans and hordes, so weapons, armour, or something different?
Amdirlain created an enchanted banner and drove the adamantine pole it hung from into the soil. Embroidered into the banner was Urtila's sigil, and a field of sustenance spread from it.
The Celestial's gaze clamped onto the crystalline pole. "A banner carrying the Mother's sigil. What does it do, Elf?"
"Tribes favoured by this gift would have safe childbirth, and their young nourished more easily. Her sigil should allow Urtila to turn off the effect for any that fall out of her favour."
"An interesting choice of gifts, but Orc mothers need to prove their strength on their own; the weak come back to the mother sooner." The Celestial folded her arms below her armoured bust.
Attitudes can vary and aren't always kind to females, even among those who should be their kin.
"It's a boon she can pass to primitive worlds. In lean times, strength isn’t always possible. This only provides some help to the tribe, and doesn't grant anyone magical strength."
"You offer a gift that you decided was suitable for Urtila, not something she’d expect for an audience. You also have no one to vouch for you. There is no place for you in Urtila's tent."
“Then why ask about gifts?”
“To test you. If you were worthy, you’d understand what was suitable.”
A figure matching the Celestial's height and wearing black jagged armour appeared beside Amdirlain, who counted out individual millionths of a second to avoid blasting Laodice.
The pair stood there with the Celestial glaring at Laodice.
“I’ll vouch for her,” Laodice stated.
What is Laodice doing here? I doubt she actually wants to be helpful.
"You've not visited in aeons. You ventured into the Abyss, not to provide for anyone, but for arrogant glory. By the mother's teachings, stay gone."
The Aspect of War stood level with the Celestial. "Magral, you've been a servant of Urtila for aeons. In all that time, have I ever led you astray?"
A burning fury pulsed through Magral, the muscles in her neck bulging as she roared. "You announce my name, my history, but share nothing of hers? This is not your place, Aspect."
Are you trying another form of sabotage now?
"You are always so fierce about the smallest of matters, Magral. Yet I would give you nothing of hers without permission. I give you my word, my promise, that the individual before you can aid the orcs in their eternal war."
"Why should I accept your word? The promise of one taken alive is feeble at best." Magral snarled, spitting at Laodice's feet.
"I don't wish her promise to stand for me. I'll prove myself," Amdirlain declared.
"You are not worthy of an audience with Urtila. For Laodice's insult, I will not even mention your visit. Begone!"
Amdirlain smiled viciously. "Then I would speak with her youngest, Trakkai, Goddess of the Swelling Moon. Do you judge who is worthy to approach her tent, Magral?"
"You are not a mother to call upon her. Your hips are too narrow, and you've no breasts worthy of suckling a baby."
"Your perception is too narrow."
"You might be a deity, but I can feel your tottering footsteps. There are demi-gods stronger than you, and I've slain my share of ones who would start the path of divinity."
"How many lives would I have to bring into the realm to be worthy of an audience with Trakkai?"
"Come back when you've had children, flat-chested wench. One so feeble with such twig-like limbs couldn't have experienced any genuine pain."
Amdirlain sent an invitation out through her links, and thousands of Enyalië appeared hovering above the hunting fields. With each beat of their wings, more of them arrived, and with the last, they chorused together. "Did you need something, Mother?"
"I've given birth in many lifetimes, but to meet your requirements in this one, here is a fraction of my daughters. I've brought thousands of souls into this realm. How many have you borne?"
"You mock me," Magral growled, jabbing her sword towards Amdirlain, even as she remained carefully within the Domain. "Elves, you are always words and no action. Begone from here and take your failed huntress with you. You merely have these celestials call you mother when they are not children of yours."
Amdirlain reached inside and touched the ocean of pain she held inside, and her demeanour changed. Rage burned across her skin, and the nebulae within her gaze glowed painfully bright. Her voice snapped like a whip cracking the air.
"They know me. You do not. Who are you to claim you know anything about my pain or family? I know your song. You who came from a Celestial Wellspring and never possessed a Mortal Soul, suckled no child, nor bore one, never cradled dead blood kin in your arms, or ever went without water so another could drink. You don't get to set terms, especially for seeing a goddess you don't serve, and then claim I've mocked you when I prove you wrong." Amdirlain's expression became a thundercloud. Shedding her outer robes, she beckoned tauntingly at Magral and then closed her eyes. "Step outside your goddess's Domain. I'm no longer interested in visiting her, but I want to stuff my fist into your loud mouth. Oh, great and mighty defender hiding cowardly behind a line."
Magral roared and charged across the boundary. Her shield vanished, and she adopted a two-handed grip on her sword. The Celestial came straight into Amdirlain’s scything kick that echoed through the air with a thunderous clang. The impact crushed Magral’s greaves, causing her to stumble badly as multiple bones fractured. Amdirlain used the time it brought to flow backwards and waved her daughters off.
"Kick her arse, mum," Irini yelled. Others followed her call and hurled insults at Magral.
An overhead chop generated a shockwave, and Amdirlain's smokey form flowed away. She reverted to a solid state to hammer an axe kick into Magral's thigh near where the straps bound it in place, and the Orc's return swipe ripped through the air over a gelatinous mass. Rising behind the blow, Amdirlain's fists solidified and blurred the air with mountain-cracking force that dented gauntlets and arm greaves before Magral teleported to flank her. Without turning, Amdirlain deflected the next chop with a high kick, the outside of her foot guiding out past her shoulder. The blade changed direction at waist height, and she back-flipped over it, lifting to deliver a kick that snapped Magral's right tusk.
The split piece jumped to Amdirlain's hand, and she tossed it inside the Domain.
Magral drove her blade forward in a full-speed lunge, but Amdirlain's mind followed every beat of her theme. Splitting around it, Amdirlain reformed around her hand, and a punch broke Magral's nose, who in return stomped a kick into Amdirlain's knee. Dissolving into hot ashes, she rushed around Magral and solidified further from the Domain. Nearby hunters yelled, driving the herd further away, but they couldn't keep pace. As Magral surged after her, Amdirlain swung around alongside her attack, grabbed her wrists and kept moving. Momentum swept Magral around and let Amdirlain break her greaves and forearms with a rising knee strike before she let go. The blade dropped from Magral's grasp, and the momentum flung the Celestial back into the Domain before she could stop herself.
Her expression serenely composed, Amdirlain caught the blade and laid it respectfully on the grass and stepped back.
"Trickery!" Magral snarled.
“Call it what you will, in an actual fight you’d be dead.”
Gauntlet hands ripped at tufts of grass as Magral's arms straightened, popping the straps from the mangled arm greaves.
"Dishonourable bitch, what sort of fighting was that?"
"The effective kind. I don't wear armour or carry weapons, yet my mind and will provide both. Should I teach you to fight in such a defenceless state?"
Snarling at the offer, Magral raced forward. As her path carried her across the boundary, Amdirlain vaporised the enraged Celestial's armour, leaving her in the simple hide garments that had lain underneath. Amdirlain teleported to one side, and Magral flitted around her, swinging vicious blows that caught only air, as Amdirlain bounced between positions and forms with teasing evasiveness.
Finally, Magral over-committed again and lunged with a snarl, twisting her lips. Once her arms stretched out, Amdirlain popped to one side and dropped into a sweeping kick; her flesh carrying a concentration of Ki and Primordial Flame. The impact scoured through cloth and flesh down to bone before it broke both Magral's thighs, and Amdirlain held the breaks with her mind to stop them from immediately healing.
"You didn't agree to the best of three, so we've moved onto where I kick your arse until you tap out." Amdirlain projected before she flowed back and released the wounds to heal. "Or do I follow Orc customs, the ones where I treat you as an enemy and kill you? Your goddess's help isn't essential, just convenient. I could simply continue to let the formithians eat her orcs without suffering consequences."
The banner and post that Amdirlain had offered leapt into her hand and vanished. She signalled the Enyalië to withdraw, and they disappeared from the sky.
"Elf," Magral spat, as she hovered into the air to let her legs heal away from the grass fronds.
"I'm not an Elf who became a Demi-God. I'm a Primordial with a near-elven appearance, which is different. Since I wasn't given a decent welcome and instead treated with disrespect, I retract my offered gift." Amdirlain re-created the armour the Celestial had been wearing, positioned so it would topple backwards into Urtila's Domain. "But you can have your armour back."
As it clanged to the ground, Magral froze, her lady's orders pressing against her mind through her Oath link. When Urtila’s touch released her, Magral straightened and relayed her message precisely. "My goddess will see you after all. You should know that the obligation of gifts more substantial than food is unwelcome, singer."
I figured the True Song would get her attention.
Thousands of rows of marinated spit-roast bison and grills roasting various tubers stretched for a light-year in either direction along the Domain's boundary.
"Would Urtila care to eat together?" Amdirlain asked.
"Urtila will see you," Magral glared at Laodice. "Yet she said nothing of you."
Amdirlain opened her eyes and motioned towards the Domain. "After you. Even if I don't need to see you to fight, I wouldn't trust you at my back."
Magral's face darkened, but she stalked ahead, aiming for a wide street through the ocean of tents within the Domain.
"You closed your eyes to mock her," Laodice noted.
"That’s your perspective, and I never asked for your introduction. I could have picked out her name in advance, so all your presence did was turn disdain to rage." Amdirlain's outer robes reappeared, and she moved to follow Magral.
"Can't we put things behind us?" Laodice blurted.
"You abandoned me to my fate, so I’m not acting with you. Yet I currently have no plans to remove you now or in the future," Amdirlain said without turning around.
"By the rules, I shouldn't have even provided you the help I did, and you might consider that you abandoned us first," Laodice retorted.
You had each other, yet all I felt was loneliness.
"You have your perspective, and I have mine." Amdirlain began walking and, once within the Domain's boundary, she could sense seven goddesses spread out within its limits.
Laodice didn’t follow.
Magral deliberately led her through a slow route, yet it gave Amdirlain time to watch the petitioners.
After an hour, they stopped outside a massive yurt the size of a carnival's big top; music, raucous laughter, and the sound of utensils and plates echoed from inside.
I'm glad someone's enjoying the food I created.
Within, there wasn't a throne or a raised dais, just a series of trestle tables with Urtila sitting among the Orc mothers and the souls of those offspring who hadn't made it to adulthood. Though close to Amdirlain's height, Urtila's shoulders had triple the breadth, her biceps dwarfing Amdirlain's thighs. The goddess wore a hide dress that was criss-crossed with so many blood stains that the brown of the leather barely showed as speckled dots among the black, yet rings of mithril capped the four tusks that extended from her lower jaw. Bridges of faith extended from her to trillions of worlds, making Amdirlain's link to Qil Tris look like an ant's stick bridge compared to an eight-lane autobahn.
Two guards at the entrance drew the flaps to either side, which allowed Magral and Amdirlain to enter without fuss.
As they got near her position, Urtila pushed her plate, laden with meat cuts and dripping, over to a nearby child and turned in her seat to eye them. She made a show of looking Amdirlain over, who felt the deity's awareness flare in recognition. "You look different, Orhêthurin. Though I imagine that isn't your name anymore. You've lost the blond locks and the golden eyes that all Anar possessed. Yet now your eyes show the same hollowness you always possessed in life."
Beside her, Magral stiffened.
"Anar." The word echoed among the crowd in the tent.
"I currently have no memory of you, Urtila."
"Then, do we begin with a fresh campsite, or should I dig up old graves? The second seems more likely since you have a grudge against Laodice."
"Not a grudge, but she doesn't have my trust. Did you have an unpleasant view of me?"
"You stayed loyal to the Titan, so I've no genuine issue with you except that you stayed with the rest of them. Though there were a few times you ignored requests to change worlds."
"It would have gone against the plan for that world."
"The plan?!" Urtila snorted. "Is that your view or from old memories you have?"
"As Orhêthurin, I was obsessed with the plan for the realm and wouldn't act against its goals, though other things were negotiable."
"Why do you come to me, Amdirlain?" Urtila's tusks caused her to roll the r in the name slightly, but she was understandable.
Gideon’s mental touch brushed her mind. "She's allowed to check on things with me as well, and on the bright side, it saves you from having to announce your name and allow a bunch of souls to hear it from your lips."
Thanks for confirming; I was sure she'd have some way of knowing who entered her Domain.
"I was hoping we could work together to break up the Formithian unity and rescue some orcs on a world that dark deities have subjugated."
“A worthy reason to listen to your proposal," Urtila's claw tips rapped against the rough surface of the table.
"Why should I trust in your goals, Amdirlain?"
"The control will be in your hands for both projects." Amdirlain held out a memory crystal. "This has a mechanism for disrupting the formithians. As far as the rescued people go, they’ll know of you and the others in your Pantheon, but they'll know nothing of my involvement."
Urtila's awareness brushed the crystal without physically touching it. "The dead's flesh will poison those who eat our children. I like it, but I’d prefer a tool for my children to use without having to die.”
“I’d prefer the nest's hierarchy suffer damage because of their behaviour.”
“We’d have no reason to attack them if they hadn’t invaded so many of our worlds.” Urtila gripped the arms of her chair so hard they creaked. “Countless trillions of my children have already fed their nests. Can you tell me that the formithians haven’t already made their choice to view us as mere food? If they break their mindset about change and alter their species, then this weakness goes away.”
“I see your point,” Amdirlain added an arcane mechanism with limited range to the crystal.
Urtila’s grin widened momentarily before a furrow appeared in the middle of her forehead, as she considered all the information on the crystal. “Amdirlain, this offer is too rich. You are offering the potential to gain billions of souls into our care, a thousand worlds and weapons against those arrogant bugs. Why?”
“The formithians need to be stopped, and it's something I should have done as Orhêthurin. Your people have fought them for a long time. These worlds I made for the people that I’ll be rescuing, and I would place them in the care of those who understand their species' instincts. Thus, I approached you.”
“You call my children people, and have done so repeatedly, whereas others call them orcs with contempt spilling from their mouths and eyes.”
“I don’t see species but souls. The formithians' disregard for the souls of others I find highly offensive. Dark powers are mauling these people I wish to rescue. Your aid in their new start would gladden me.”
“Many will die if you just move them. There will be too many on each world for my stronger servants to walk among them without already having priests to call them.”
“If you or another can advise on initial residences, I’d create them. They shouldn’t be too comfortable, just enough to shelter them and prompt them to aspire to more. ”
Urtila straightened. "It will not be enough just to shelter them. They’ll not have the basic knowledge to survive. Your crystal shows slum dwellers, but they live inside towers unlikely to have dealt with hot summers and freezing winters out in the open."
“I don’t have basic Mortal survival or crafting skills, nor the related knowledge. However, I can set up mechanisms to allow your experts to teach them in a dream state.”
“Can we keep the mechanism afterwards?” Urtila's gaze lit with hopeful greed.
Amdirlain rolled her eyes. “No.”
She’d use them for other things besides basic survival skills.
Urtila laughed sheepishly. “I had to try for my children.”
“You already got them shelter and supplies. I’ll need details about proper shelter and preserved supplies.”
“What is the environment like?”
“A wide range of biomes,” Amdirlain added more details to the crystal, and Urtila grunted. “If you could have crafters erect examples, or have someone take me to somewhere I could study them.”
Urtila issued more orders. “Anything else?”
“I believe that’s my question. Besides houses and food supplies, what do you see them needing?”
“That will vary,” Urtila said. “Come walk with me. We’ll speak with crafters and arrange examples of various simple houses, smokehouses, granaries, and suchlike. Then return here to haggle.”
“Lead away.”
Comments
James Skinner
Thanks for the chapter!
Plateworm
Tftc
