AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 292 - Details
🕑 Added 2023-05-24 05:51:18 +0000 UTCAmdirlain’s PoV - Outlands - Xaos
Upon arriving outside Xaos, Amdirlain detected Goxashru’s presence within Nolmar’s walls. Having expected him to be gone for weeks, Amdirlain hoped his premature return signalled a successful trip. As she started forward, the grey-furred Ratkin she’d first greeted in the fields outside of town rounded the closest house with a group of other workers.
Though she’d scrubbed since leaving the desolation of Tidus Nidias, the sight of him reminded Amdirlain about his comments on her scent. An attempt to draw in the dirt and gaseous molecules from her clothing received a strange push-back, and a notification chimed.
[Inventory [Ad] (40 -> 41)
Note: Way to go avoiding being stagnant. Look at you trying something new!]
The notification prompted her to use the attribute points she’d let sit unused.
On the first pass, Amdirlain evened out her Strength, Endurance, and Intelligence before considering the rest. She immediately rejected doing the same with Charisma and briefly considered putting the remaining points in Willpower. Yet after tossing the options around, True Song’s stress on her body won out, and Amdirlain opted to boost Endurance further.
The farmers walked steadily along as if not to attract predators, an impression heightened by their wary expressions. Their primary concern in their surface thoughts is to avoid the powerful's attention. When they drew level, Amdirlain gave them a polite nod of recognition that just startled them all the more.
When her route drew her close to a shop front under the drooping branches of a willow tree, it reminded Amdirlain of her recent discussion with the Commander. Prompted by their comments on logistics, Amdirlain headed inside. The shop’s exterior wall was a simple air barrier with anti-theft wards. Within its opaque limits, glass display cases filled with vials of liquid hovered among the willow’s roots. Around one side, a lanky Elf with lime-green skin stood behind a hovering slab of ice, grinding up a large satchel containing hundreds of dried mushrooms with a very ordinary-looking white-on-tan mortar and pestle.
The Elf wore his dark blue hair styled up in scores of spikes with mushroom cap tassels at the end. His hairdo was an odd punk look made stranger by his clothing being composed of multi-coloured patches, which looked like a community quilting project gone into flamboyant overdrive; vivid pinks, oranges, and yellows aplenty. Though Analysis provided his name and trifecta of classes, Amdirlain didn’t tip her hand.
“Are you Galasser or his assistant?”
The Elf stopped and glanced at Amdirlain through a pair of silver-rimmed glasses. Pausing, he frowned. As he reached up to adjust them, Amdirlain caught the struggles of their enchantment to handle her presence. “I’m the owner, and you are?”
“Please call me Am. The Commander said you have ongoing issues getting materials for various potions and medicines. Could you show me dried samples to confirm what you need most frequently? I might know them by different names.”
Galasser’s brows lifted. “I’ve heard of your addition to the town. Surely you’re not interested in peddling materials to this lowly Apothecary.”
Wizard, Alchemist, and Apothecary in the mid-50s isn’t exactly lowly.
“I’m planning to reward materials to those making it through stages in my tower. Giving out coins or completed equipment would cause problems, so I wanted to provide materials useful to the town’s crafters.”
“Some frequently needed materials wouldn’t earn them more than coppers,” cautioned Galasser.
Amdirlain gave an unconcerned shrug. “Then those can be rewards for victors in the lower levels.”
Briefly lifting his hand caused a hexagonal cabinet to descend from among the branches. “Don’t flood me with goods, as I have a limit to what I can buy.”
“Understandable. Tell me when they’ve fully stocked your shelves, and I’ll change the rewards,” proposed Amdirlain. “For your own planning, be aware that I’ll purchase some of the stronger healing potions you can make. Someone will check in daily and adjust the rewards. You’ll benefit, and so will the town.”
“Why?” sputtered Galasser.
“Alchemists gain experience from making potions, don’t they? You’d gain levels, and I can sell the potions or save them as rewards in further tower expansions,” explained Amdirlain.
Galasser shook his head. “I know how I get experience, but why are you handing out rewards?”
“The town’s supplies are erratic, and I want to encourage those training in my towers with the occasional useful reward,” advised Amdirlain.
Galasser paused with a question on his lips before he shook himself and moved to where the cabinet had settled.
Unlocking it, Galasser pulled out a large glass jar with only a sparse scattering of dried stems. “Nira is a seagrass, the stems are usable in several healing potions and elixirs. The traders that carry it don’t come by often enough. Frequently, I have to use substitutes to eke out my supply.”
Amdirlain focused on each container that Galasser presented and memorised their songs.
* * * * *
On the last curve towards the laneway, Amdirlain spotted Malnir catching a ride on a Ratkin’s shoulder. The young Mousekin had one hand atop their head, and his tail swished back and forth excitedly. The little fellow wore dark blue pants and a tiny vest of matching hue; there was no sign of fading or wear on the fabric.
Striding silently to catch up to them, Amdirlain slipped alongside a long-eared zebra and passed between others on the road. The breeze caused by her movements set their whiskers twitching as she matched pace with the pair mid-way along the lane.
With a hand resting on the soldier’s back, Amdirlain blocked his reflex turn. “Good morning to you both. Malnir, how did your first lesson with Yngvarr go?”
“Mistress Am, thank you so much!” squeaked Malnir as the soldier stammered a hello. “I learned a lot. Yngvarr told me to keep studying the memory stone you gave me, but I didn’t get to show you all the runes I’d practised.”
He’d rattled off his report excitedly and jumped to her shoulder.
Having read his leap, Amdirlain kept the pace steady, so he landed easily. His long nails snagged into the cloth of her shirt for stability, and he ended up almost nose-to-ear with her.
“I didn’t expect you to be excited to see me,” remarked Amdirlain.
Malnir brushed his face into her hair, gave a bashful chirp, and curiously sniffed her hair. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I never spoke to you yesterday and wanted to show you my rune practice. Why does your fur smell so clean?”
“My apologies for running off. I should have checked on how you’d done since I’d set a study assignment,” offered Amdirlain. “I magically cleaned my hair, as I’d been visiting some foul-smelling places.”
Malnir turned side-on to Amdirlain’s face to perch on her shoulder properly, and he gave the top of her head a reassuring pat. “It’s alright, I forgive you for running off. I know you went to see the Commander, but I’m sure most of the town knows that by now. Did they wiggle tentacles at you and try to pull your brain from your body?”
A bark of laughter from the soldier had Malnir snap his head around. “The Commander doesn’t do that.”
“We discussed the types of spells that would help the guards in their duties and some supply issues,” advised Amdirlain. “What progress have you made with the runes?”
“I got up to a hundred runes before bedtime. With Ygnvarr teaching me, does that mean you won’t be anymore?”
“You can learn a wider range of skills from Yngvarr, and I thought you might find me a little intimidating, Malnir,” explained Amdirlain.
Malnir’s ears twitched, and his tail swished across Amdirlain’s back. “Most species are twice the size of Mousekin, if not more. We get used to intimidating folks and, in the end, it’s hard to get deader than dead. Someone not trying to squash us is always good news, and you were nice to my mum, so you’ve excellent taste.”
His flurry of words had Amdirlain restraining a smile. “Well, your mum is nice, so why wouldn’t I be nice to her?”
“It would be nice if all her customers behaved that way; some of the town’s ladies are rude to her,” huffed Malnir.
Amdirlain tucked her hands behind her back to quash the temptation to rub Malnir’s ears. “I try to be nice to people unless they’re rude.”
“That makes sense, I guess, but then you likely shouldn’t meet my sisters; they’re generally rude,” declared Malnir.
The familiar sibling grumbling had Amdirlain holding back another smile. “Would they say the same about you?”
“I don’t laugh at their new clothing,” huffed Malnir, and his tail patted energetically against Amdirlain’s back.
“In celebration of an apprenticeship?”
Malnir stuck out his chest proudly, and his free hand tugged at the vest’s hem. “Mum gave them to me yesterday. It made her happy that Yngvarr also came to talk to her; mum couldn’t believe you got me an apprenticeship in a day.”
“There is a bit of good fortune in that; I hadn’t expected Yngvarr’s arrival,” admitted Amdirlain.
“Yngvarr said she needed to ask you about furnishings if I was to be a live-in apprentice soon,” reported Malnir.
While Amdirlain was tempted to let it pass after the months spent meticulously engraving circles with Erwarth, she took it as a teaching opportunity instead. “Think about what you just told me, and identify the problem with what you said. I’ll give you a hint: a single word can matter.”
Giving a worried squeak, Malnir scratched at his ear. “I’m not… oh, Yngvarr said she needed to ask you.”
“As a Wizard, details matter. When you have time, always consider instructions fully before you act,” advised Amdirlain. "When you're rushed, it's even more important to know you're taking due care because then it might be a matter of life and death."
“What if you have no time left?” asked Malnir.
“Then you’ll be hoping all your practice has made all the fine details automatic, so you miss nothing vital,” replied Amdirlain. “As a Wizard, advanced preparation can ensure your survival. Whether learning extra spells, gaining more knowledge, or triple-checking runes in a circle before using it, it’s important to pay attention to details.”
“I’ll do my best,” declared Malnir earnestly.
Entering the courtyard, Amdirlain found Yngvarr meditating cross-legged in the outer hall. She wasn’t alone and had several trainees following her example; among the group knelt Goxashru. He was still wearing the crystal armour Amdirlain had equipped him with for his trip, though his helm was resting beside him. Amdirlain crouched and let Malnir hop down, and he scurried across the flagstones to sit beside Yngvarr.
Focused on the crystals hidden in the tower’s foundations, Amdirlain added hundreds of keyed songs to create the various mundane and magical herbs. Once they were in place, she added the decision criteria for their random creation and connected them to constructs on different levels. When done, Amdirlain updated the information within the telepathic message on the stairs.
She had barely finished when Cyrus entered the courtyard with the rest of the students in tow. Enrig and Callen headed directly towards Amdirlain and halted before her. “Sifu.”
As they bowed awkwardly, Cyrus’ face composed into a bland, expressionless mask.
A raised eyebrow from Amdirlain caused the pair to twitch nervously. “I see Master Cyrus has been teaching people his regional style of address.”
“We were asking how we should address the instructors since they're normally our officers. Is Sifu not right?” asked Enrig.
“It means teacher or Master,” advised Amdirlain.
Callen gave a satisfied nod. “That was what Master Cyrus told us. You’re our teacher, are you not?”
Giving Cyrus a suspicious look, Amdirlain raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to find a title I’ll accept someone using?”
“You might be a baby Sifu still, but you are their teacher,” commented Cyrus.
Giving Cyrus a sour look, Amdirlain sent Goxashru a mental nudge to join them and led the three towards the same courtyard she used for the last lesson. Once they were in the courtyard, Amdirlain motioned between them. “Since you all have different etiquette for proper introductions compared to me, why don’t you introduce yourselves?”
Goxashru immediately stated in Draconic. “Goxashru, Talon of the Elder Am.”
At their blank expressions, Amdirlain caught that neither Enrig nor Callen had understood his words. “I take it neither of you speaks Draconic?”
Enrig gave a sharp tail flick. “Never had a need.”
“There is a translation effect near the keep’s portcullis,” advised Callen.
Amdirlain frowned and considered adding a field to Nolmar, only to realise she’d never cast the Spell since learning it. “Goxashru, do you mind if I cast a Tongues Spell on you so you can communicate with the locals?”
“That sounds wise, Elder,” agreed Goxashru, spreading his fingers wide though his claws stayed sheathed.
Once she finished casting the Spell, Amdirlain considered the stability of its effect and hummed thoughtfully. With the Spell’s duration likely measured in days, Amdirlain made a mental note to add a translation field to Nolmar at some point.
“Done.”
“I am Goxashru, Talon of the Elder Am. It is sad when beings do not speak the tongue of the Elder kin,” lamented Goxashru.
Enrig bit off a response when Callen nudged his foot.
“Callen, sergeant of the local garrison,” offered Callen, and he gave Enrig another nudge.
His whiskers twitched, but Enrig’s voice was calm. “Enrig, corporal of the local garrison, born in Xaos.”
Callen outranks him. Is that the source of their rivalry? Or the fact Enrig’s a local? Don't be nosey, Amdirlain.
“Goxashru, did you get time to practice moving your Ki between chakras?”
“I managed a few hours, but the servants of the local Elder responded quicker to your request than I expected. I received an offer to take the Monk Class while dreaming in the evening,” advised Goxashru. “There were also other classes offered, though none involved Ki.”
His dry tone had Amdirlain curious about what the Class vision had offered. “If you’d prefer to take one of those, let’s discuss them after this training session.”
“I would accept the Monk Class if you would permit it. You had requested I take no Class without consulting you,” noted Goxashru.
Amdirlain gave a pleased nod. “Monk is fine. Some other classes might have caused you trouble, and I wanted to be around to help.”
“Then I will meditate on it and see if the Class will respond while awake or if I need to sleep again,” agreed Goxashru, and he moved to crouch out of the way under the courtyard’s awning.
Once Goxashru had stepped away, Amdirlain turned to the duo. “How did practice go for you two?”
“I managed a few more strikes,” responded Callen.
Enrig grumbled. “The Ki doesn’t want to move beyond my wrist, but I can move it there easily now.”
“Then let’s start with controlling the flow of Ki down your arms and legs,” instructed Amdirlain. “I want you to alternate between each limb. While you practice, I’ll observe your Ki flows.”
The lesson lasted four hours, and by the time the training was over, Callen and Enrig could consistently include Ki in their strikes. Despite their successes, the two were exhausted by continually refilling their reserves and staggered away when she called an end to the training. As they headed off, Amdirlain considered Goxashru’s armour-clad form still crouched by the courtyard's entry.
“What did the town’s patron say about the Formithian presence?”
“She and her mate were furious. They used your map as a reference and independently confirmed the existence of the deep chambers that no one had suspected,” advised Goxashru. “They’ve sent memory crystals with all the details to the senior conclave. Since the nest isn’t in their territory, it will be for the conclave to decide if they root out the formithians or leave them to wither.”
“Goxashru, are you still trying to get the Monk Class to respond?”
“It is eluding me,” admitted Goxashru.
“Monks don’t wear armour, Goxashru,” noted Amdirlain. “Though you can cycle the life energy that the Class utilises, perhaps you’re too attached to your armour.”
“But you made this for me, Elder,” protested Goxashru.
Amdirlain nodded. “I did, and though I showed you how to recognise and move your Ki, you don’t have to take Monk now or ever. You’ve got your Fighter and Priest classes that work fine with armour. Consider if you take Monk or something that combines with your armour-wearing classes.”
“As you say, Elder,” acknowledged Goxashru. “Should I tell you of the other classes I perceived in my vision?”
“Let’s start there, but I’m only going to check that they’re not risky for you. Whatever Class you select has to be something you want to dedicate yourself to pursuing,” advised Amdirlain.
The new options the Class vision provided him were a variety of Knight classes common among those serving as talons to elders. Some focused more on protecting their oath holder’s properties, while others ventured into the wilderness variants of a Knight-errant working beyond their Elder's borders.
When Amdirlain heard Cyrus approaching, she instructed Goxashru to meditate between taking one of three Knight classes that interested him or Monk.
He’s got three knight classes, and he can’t choose between them or rule them out. That reluctance tells me he shouldn’t be forcing himself to take Monk. Is it a cultural thing to follow your Elder’s preferences?
Goxashru bowed politely as he passed Cyrus in the corridor, and while Amdirlain was tempted to troll Cyrus by teleporting away, she stayed put. “Good morning, Master Cyrus.”
“Morning for your trainees was over twelve hours ago,” advised Cyrus as he sat on the ground nearby.
Amdirlain knelt a couple of metres away, facing him. “It’s a nice bright day, so good morning.”
Cyrus’ lips quirked into a smile. “I take it you were a morning person?”
Shrugging helplessly, Amdirlain returned his smile. “I cycled Ki with one of my patients and got an insight that helped me find my True Name. To me, that qualifies as a good morning.”
“Interesting that you found your revelation helping another; most look inwards,” remarked Cyrus.
Amdirlain smiled sheepishly. “Do you remember when I focused on the destruction aspect of the Phoenix’s cycle?”
“You had an odd perspective. Should I take it that has changed?”
“I saw the flames of my Ki hidden within their ash and dust, and it led me to a cascade of insights. I hadn’t stopped to consider how many I’d helped come back from dark places,” admitted Amdirlain.
“Would you like some tea?” enquired Cyrus.
Amdirlain shrugged. “I don’t need refreshments.”
Cyrus laughed. “I’ve told you before that neither do I, but the ritual of tea making is relaxing.”
He retrieved a low table from a storage ring and set it between them. C-shaped legs supported the square table, whose glazed surface displayed a scene of eight snow-capped mountain peaks around a broad valley. A tea service appeared in his hands, and he set it on the table before him with slow, deliberate motions and set a stone water heater to one side.
The porcelain service’s white and blue pattern was an eastern dragon coiling around each piece. The artist who’d created them had included tiny scales along the dragon’s body and long whiskers, to the point they looked like they could swim free at any moment.
As Cyrus prepared the tea, he mirrored the precision that had gone into the artistry of the cups. The stately motions had Amdirlain slowing her normally racing mind to relax in the moment’s harmony. The aroma of the oolong tea Cyrus finally set before Amdirlain drew forth a smile.
Amdirlain cradled the cup and inhaled the soothing scent, enjoying its old familiarity. “Thank you, Master Cyrus.”
“Few are knowledgeable enough to have some appreciation for this tea,” observed Cyrus before he took a sip from his cup. “I enjoy tea more when it’s a shared pleasure.”
“I'm not a connoisseur, so it's only a tiny appreciation,” admitted Amdirlain.
“It is better not to gift things to those who have no appreciation of their meaning or the effort involved,” observed Cyrus before he took a sip.
“Are you speaking about the ladies or the material the soldiers have likely gained from the constructs?”
“I hadn’t mentioned either of them,” remarked Cyrus innocently. “Do you have a concern?”
Amdirlain lifted an eyebrow and gave an amused snort. “I hope both will provide only a foundation for additional growth, not hamper development. The ladies will need to train their powers, and the town needs to turn raw materials from the drops into useful products. When did the ladies mention their powers?”
“They were speaking to Yngvarr the other day about training Protean,” replied Cyrus. “She is another whose life you’ve changed.”
“I’m a bad influence,” sighed Amdirlain.
Cyrus tsked. “An influence, yes; bad, I disagree with. Though it is best to ensure you continue to provide tools and not eliminate effort, we’ve discussed how the effort one spends in life can polish away a Soul’s flaws. Many years ago, I made the mistake of trying to provide shortcuts to my students; it didn’t end well for them and that unsettled my own Tao.”
Though his voice was calm, Amdirlain didn’t want to dig into old pain. “I can’t eliminate the effort, and I can only set them upon the start of a path that I’ve spent some time walking myself.”
“Good,” stated Cyrus, and he motioned to the courtyard. “You seem intent on setting up quite the school here.”
Not inclined to push back against the subject change, Amdirlain nodded. “If I’m going to do something, I like to do it properly. Getting enough teachers will take some time; hopefully enough of those we train are interested in training others.”
“Patience and time make many things possible,” offered Cyrus. “Many schools have started with a single teacher and an interested pupil. My only question is: why here?”
“The Outlands is a balance point of the realm; it seems right to help strengthen that balance,” explained Amdirlain. “There are many things that are out of balance or that I find concerning on planes and worlds alike. I have a question that might seem odd.”
Her abrupt subject change had Cyrus pause with his cup before his mouth. “Odder than the quick construction of this school and training tower?”
“Way odder,” admitted Amdirlain.
Setting his cup down, Cyrus motioned for her to continue.
Not wanting to risk being overhead, Amdirlain put sound barriers around them before she spoke. “You said the eastern heaven and hell are aligned differently to the Material Plane. Would the Jade Emperor like a connection to another world? It’s just a stinking mud ball, and I need to get it habitable again. Or I can provide the details to a blank world after I clean it of the undead populating it. I’m sure the Jade Court could easily make it liveable themselves.”
“You make it sound so straightforward,” said Cyrus. “The Jade Court likely could do such a thing, but how would you do it?”
“It’s not straightforward, but I don’t want to bore you with the details, and it might take me a few centuries to achieve,” advised Amdirlain.
“Would you explain how it’s conceivable?”
“For billions of years, the Titan had two powerful Elven species, the Anar and Lómë, working to create systems and worlds. The Titan's Songbird gave them access to a Power called True Song, which let them create worlds and solar systems. Though the bigger the work, the bigger the choirs they needed to accomplish them. I’ve got an ancient Soul, and I was one of the Titan’s workforce making the realm in that lifetime. I’ve regained access to True Song, but I’m still growing my capabilities.”
Cyrus picked up his cup and held it cradled in his hands. “I do not believe I’m the right one to speak on the Jade Emperor’s behalf or even take a message to his court with your offer. I would have to contact the White Tiger’s court and see if a suitable individual can pass it along.”
“There isn’t a rush. It could be centuries before any of them are ready to proceed. Though you can help and pick out some world names; otherwise, who knows what ill-omened name I might give them,” confided Amdirlain.
“You’re concerned about naming worlds?”
“I have to rename them when I isolate them; otherwise, the demons that laid waste to them could get access again,” advised Amdirlain. “I’m going to rescue over a hundred worlds from a Demon Lord, but the oldest are in bad states.”
Taking a sip of tea, Cyrus thoughtfully ran his fingers along the side of the cup. “Given your current nature is like our demons, others will want to know if I asked: are there strings attached to this gift?”
“The Jade Emperor sent you my way, and your guidance helped me immensely. If he wants a world that is still mud, all I’d ask is that I be allowed to listen to new life being added to it. I’d like to hear the stages of the process to expand my current knowledge,” advised Amdirlain.
“Because you’ve got the other worlds to repair?” enquired Cyrus.
Amdirlain nodded. “I need to stretch my capabilities, but listening to another’s work might help.”
“Do you have a way forward without me doing this for you?” enquired Cyrus. “Some would see you as another Demon, and thus contacting the court is not without danger.”
His warning prompted Amdirlain to try Precognition, but she only got a faint sense of danger and reward with nothing discernible. “I believe in repaying my debts.”
“Debts can weigh on a Soul’s progress towards perfection, but it would be ideal to have recovered from your Fallen state before coming into contact with many from the Jade Court.”
“I don’t know how long getting rid of my Fallen state will take. I agree there is danger in getting in touch with the Jade Court, but there is also value, as your help has shown.”
Cyrus nodded and sent off a series of messages. “Given your unusual offer, you might hear from someone tomorrow or a thousand years from now. The wheels of the Celestial Bureaucracy can turn extremely slowly. Enjoy your tea, and then we’ll spar.”
“That will make it three gifts from you today,” laughed Amdirlain. “But I need to talk to Malnir first. He wanted to show me his progress with Draconic script the other day, but I slipped away.”
"Such a truly horrible person. Drink your tea and see to the youngster," chided Cyrus.
When she finished her tea, Amdirlain cleaned her cup and headed off to find Malnir. Focusing on his song, she caught it in the residential courtyard and wondered if he had parked himself in a room or the library.
Comments
Glenn Wright
The local pantheon's influence keeps them beyond its boundary, the planar alignment of their heaven/hell set up means its difficult for them to visit. Some smaller 'shen' and eastern demons have trouble even going beyond their centre.
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter! I actually forgot how the "Jade Court" sees "actual demons" (not "just" fallen) are they just another version of "Shen" and there's basically no distinction in the different "types of Shen" or so "real demons" not appear in their sphere of influence due to some energy fluctuations maybe? This was probably already mentioned at some point and I just forgot! ;)
