AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 341 - Commotion
🕑 Added 2023-10-04 21:52:55 +0000 UTCAmdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Qil Tris - Year 4370 (Local calendar)
Two days later, news of a slaughter escalated their timeline. While Sarah dealt with broadcast preparations, Amdirlain wandered through a mall far different to those she'd grown familiar with. The hexagonal towers' exteriors were stark, without a single decoration anywhere to be seen. In this middle-class area, the shops were bland and practical; even the clothing stores were drab in the colours of cloth available.
Where Osaphis stores had at least put out colourful temporary sign boards, here they were strictly black and white. The badly faded writing barely warranted a glance from the locals, as if the signage rarely changed. About the place, she saw more than a few signs making it clear coupons were required and limits per customer applied. No eateries, boutique stores, dance studios, or music shops existed. The bookstores had hundreds of books about the Matriarch, her father, heroes of the dominion and technical literature.
She had to keep her steps slow to match the trudging steps of those around her. Thin mothers carried children and pulled homemade carts with little food besides the necessities. Many goods bore logos with the Matriarch's likeness or the Patriarch's seal of approval. She ventured into a grocery store's interior, where too-loud receivers burbled news of the latest victories to keep their community safe.
Following a family of six, Amdirlain spotted the mother doing the sums from the first item. As she wandered the aisle behind her, Amdirlain picked items to round out the mother's choices. Amdirlain didn't pick out the items she returned from the children's grabbing hands, her selections were essentials the mother regretted skipping and larger bags of food staples that would keep for months. After Amdirlain cleared the registers, she caught up to the mother and watched as she kept the children in tow. One escapee had Amdiralin step forward. She herded the eldest back to their mother and casually gestured with the bags.
"Some things to help you," Amdirlain said.
The mother's eyes went wide, and she stopped in shock. "I don't have coupons for those."
"None of these items need them or are on limits. My mate won't be returning, and I have funds I'm unlikely to need past today," reassured Amdirlain before she nodded to the children. "Please let me help you and them."
"Is it because of the draft?" whispered the mother, even as her mind brought up other unpleasant options. The graphic images in the female mind showed suicides seen first-hand.
"The Matriarch’s service wants what it wants. I won't be in the city after today," agreed Amdirlain softly. "Just tell me where you’d like me to take them."
The mother started forward, and the children, curious about Amdirlain and the bags, kept pace. The trip wasn't far, and the children relaxed under the calmness Amdirlain projected and didn't fuss at their mother. It was a trip that went in silence between them, and Amdirlain felt bad whenever the mother glanced at the bags with guilt and need.
"What of your pride?" asked the mother as Amdirlain handed her the supplies through the door.
Amdirlain gave her a sad smile. "They also no longer need food."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Have hope things will get better," replied Amdirlain. "Maybe you'll hear my voice again one day. The grey bag has some extra to hold aside."
Amdirlain was out of sight before the mother could check the bag and find the coins. As Amdirlain headed towards the city's core, she went between shopping centres and similarly helped a few more families.
Along her route, she found where the highrises started was a demarcation line. The clothing was more colourful, and the choices were wider. Yet there was a catch: restrictions applied unless one paid with Mana. It's a naturally selective elitism, and every shop has a separate counter for those paying that way. From a shop owner's mind, Amdirlain plucked out the reason: a requirement of the local zoning laws.
She adjusted her clothing to blend in with groups that lay ahead and moved on. Amidst the propaganda's continuous announcements of the Matriarch's greatness, she finally heard some music. But even in that, she caught hints about the Patriarch's sacrifices and the heroics of the Matriarch.
'You should see this; they’re so special. Look at the treatment you deserve for having Mana.'
Sarah snorted, taking in the view Amdirlain shared. 'Oh honey, you say the sweetest things.'
'You want a smack?'
'Not a switch, sweetie. Then again, if it's the only way, you'll come to play...'
'Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly,' laughed Amdirlain, trying to counter the hollowness within herself.
'Give me more, sweetie, give it,' heckled Sarah with a sultry huff.
After she let out a mental raspberry, Amdirlain swept her Resonance out as far as she could and sent the details she collected from every receiver. As she went along, she fed the information into Sarah's psi-crystal to be sorted. As her research progressed, Amdirlain could feel the edge of tension in Sarah from the news that had prompted them to act early.
'I'd prefer you be clear of the zone before I smack the Matriarch's nose.'
'I’m not in a form related to Am or J,' responded Amdirlain, and she sent her an image of the calico form she wore.
'You should be in a tuxedo cat form for the service of arse whooping,' huffed Sarah.
'It depends on how the civilians here take it,' replied Amdirlain. 'Is the rest of Astent's populace out as yet?'
'They are; the surveyor shows no living left among the buildings,' murmured Sarah. 'But it's a tent city. I'm hassling the profs to give us the list of essential services.'
'I'll be back there to redistribute more supplies and refurbish the facilities shortly.' replied Amdirlain.
'Connection established to multiple receivers, and the broadcast activated,' announced Sarah.
A propaganda announcement ended mid-word, and a dark-furred newscaster appeared; their neatly pressed suit contrasted with the other's military uniform. The male was seated before the logo of one of the Oligarchy's largest caster stations. It was a detail that would hopefully cause the Matriarch's information police headaches later. His well-spoken voice was a bass rumble that cut through the shopper's noise.
“The Matriarch threw a hundred and fifty thousand infantry and armoured units into the latest assault on Astent. The size of the surge after the quiet siege the city has endured for months caught the defenders off guard. The Matiratch’s units killed almost 100,000 civilians equipped with only personal small arms and all the remaining Astent military units.”
Smoothing the film sheet on the desk to compose himself, he nodded gravely to reinforce the news.
“It's predicted that to hold on to the city, the Matriarch's forces will have to ride out the formation of a large Spawning Abomination within the week. It could also doom neighbouring cities within the spectre's reach if they don't. Like previous events of this nature, the callous calculated actions put none of her cities at risk.”
The newscaster's grim expression turned sad as he switched his attention between cameras.
“Currently, the city is under full lockdown, and they've summarily executed civilians who’ve attempted to surrender. They've left families with young children to rot in the street for anyone who dares peek outside to see what fate awaits them. This has some experts believing the military will starve the remaining populace of the city. An outcome that hails back to the Matriarch's early conquests and her responses to cities that put up any prolonged resistance.’”
“If they take this approach, we could see a return to her conquest doctrine from three hundred years ago. While the exact reason for this latest territory grab is unknown, her forces now possess a land route to attack all her south-west neighbours. That’s if a cascade of spectres doesn’t completely wipe them from the map. Such is possible given the spectres' flight speed and willingness to hide in ghost caverns during the day. This attack has placed up to eighty million spread between three nations in peril.”
“After recent ineffectual personal attacks by the Matriarch's enforcers, the performer Am asked a question in a song: does the Matriarch consider herself a new genocidal God? The answer appears to be an undoubted yes. This massacre came just days later, but sources say it would have taken months to implement the required troop movements and even longer to plan.”
That question had the already stunned people gasping in shock.
The program looped, which only added to the confusion. Though Am had proposed the question to Pal'tran years ago, there hadn’t been anyone who’d gotten recordings of video caster broadcasts to work. The memory crystal’s enchantment was a trick they hadn’t shared as yet.
Amdirlain joined shoppers and gawked between the multiple screens as the unauthorised transmission looped. The truth started being broadcast in other random spots kilometres away, including the death toll among the Matriarch's troops. Troops were strangely always reported as unbeatable within her lands unless the Matriarch needed to save the day.
As others started to scamper away to avoid being caught up in the information police's arrival, Amdirlain walked calmly onwards. Behind her, a recording Sarah had constructed from the military planning committee’s memories started to play on the screen. It confirmed the newscaster's report and the systematic nature of the genocide from the voices and faces they recognised. To create an event to season their troops without risk to the Matriarch's lands.
'I'll move on and see if they use the same runes within other receivers.'
'I could override them all at once. I bounced it off short-range re-repeaters to mix up the confusion. They're drawing Mana from government offices.'
'They might purge the office staff,' cautioned Amdirlain.
'Mana draws are jumping between offices. I could drain their grid spare capacity into batteries.'
'Let's not go there,' replied Amdirlain. 'Is Cla'nes on the Demi-plane still?'
Her location among the tent city came through, and as Amdirlain turned into a quiet corridor in the mall away from prying eyes, she jumped to the Demi-plane. Changing to her J form, she appeared within the tent city. The hundred thousand ten-man tents were laid out along wide boulevards with 'facilities' and food distribution centres staggered out along the lines. Amdirlain had hastily thrown it up to have a place to evacuate the surviving people of Astent.
Lady Cla'nes and other companions were moving among the distressed civilians. Their Charisma, normally used to entertain, ensured panicked people remained calm instead .
Moving beside her boss, Ssa'time was in a 'uniform' similar to the cut of the Allied Territories' law keepers; the mute blue was attention-catching in the Catfolk's vision. Ssa'time noticed Amdirlain's arrival and touched Cla'nes's elbow to point her towards Amdirlain's position.
"How are things holding?" asked Amdirlain.
"We're keeping people calm. I've noticed some food areas emptying. I'm not sure if people are hoarding or if we have a problem with too many people visiting some of them," replied Cla'nes. "This is a different exertion than I'm used to, J."
Filtering Resonance to take in food supplies, Amdirlain nodded in satisfaction. "Option three: people have prepared a feast after so long being hungry, but that could cause other problems. They've been on short rations too long. I'll restock and set up so the shelves stay full. Might stop people feeling the need to binge."
"Food is a comfort," replied Cla'nes. "We can speak of the hourly gifts expected by some companions and how to explain this to them later."
"If they want to get some payment, I'll pay them. I'm just a representative of that cabal swinging into action," whispered Amdirlain theatrically. "I'm going to restock food, and then I'm going to see if I can get a city plan layout."
"I've got a payment option I'd like fulfilled," purred Cla'nes, her heated gaze roamed over Amdirlain and received a snort.
As Cla'nes started linking to her colleagues, Amdirlain set to work.
Food for the evacuated civilians reappeared in the distribution centres. Once that was done, Amdirlain created a series of linked songs to restock them automatically; not good for long-term independence, but they were still in the emergency phase. That she already had a few dozen people held in stasis for lashing out at others wasn't happy fuel for her mood. After she repaired the crystal fueling the regeneration fields in the 'medical centres', Amdirlain moved out of sight of the evacuees and opened a Gate. Her possession of the wardstone let her cut right to Sarah's meeting location within the campus’s faculty hall.”
Eight professors looked at her wide-eyed when the bird song from the Demi-plane interrupted their discussion.
"Afternoon all, do you have a city plan for me yet?"
"We don't have a breakdown of the professionals you'll need, J," replied a silvery-furred professor.
"What can you give me?" asked Amdirlain. "Do you have any broad city zoning layouts for the evacuees?"
An amber-furred professor raised her hand uncertainly. "We have a survey of information we need collected. I suggested smaller, modular townships; it keeps the problems on a smaller scale, preventing a cascade if a group panics."
"We lose the economies of scale around the limited numbers of core professionals we're likely to have," a dark blue male retorted.
"Some of it I'll brute force through until we properly distribute skilled personnel. Each town can access medical centres, for example, through portals," interjected Amdirlain. "I've already got people on lockdown for violence, some of which comes just from situational anxiety. Do you have existing township plans we can use for groups of up to twenty thousand people?"
The group looked at each other.
Picking the thoughts up, Sarah rolled her eyes. "Town plans are with government branches, not academics."
"I have some plans," offered one professor, and he twitched a white ear that was the only dash of colour amid his black fur. "But they're purely theoretical, modelling around transport efficiencies related to housing density. They don't extend to crop fields or food distribution; they're just housing."
"Do you have any recent graduates in the city’s offices that would have plans for the farming townships?" asked Sarah.
"Yes," replied the professor.
Sarah nodded. "Let's start with real life; we don't care about excess capacity. We don't know how long we'll need to house them, but we can seal up unused buildings."
"I'll be back in touch," replied Amdirlain, and she closed the Gate.
I want to smear the Matriarch’s face slowly across a rough brick wall, and I'm sure the plinth would hold it against me.
Keeping dozens of moving parts in the air kept her busy. When people settled in to rest, Amdirlain ventured to the broken city of Astent. The military camp's wards were set to react to the undead and alert to non-authorised Catfolk, but they rolled right over Amdirlain's Fallen form without so much as a twitch. Invisible, she drifted through the wards and moved to the armoured military transports.
Inventory wasn't something she'd stretched for a long time. Tonight, she reached through the ground to not one mass, but hundreds and gutted engine components and equipment. The dramatically lightened vehicles shifted position, and a notification burped.
[Inventory [Ad] (41->42)]
Checking the capacity increase, Amdirlain gave a pleased smirk. Without pausing, she snatched a tonne of backup weaponry from the armoury and exited the wards. Teleporting away, she eventually appeared in Sarah's workshop. Among the Artificer gear, she deposited the components into racks or stacked them on the floor for Sarah to sort out. In quick raids on a dozen other military camps, she stripped what she could without alerting the night watch to what was going on. Near neighbouring countries' military compounds, equipment mounds grew under concealment.
Sarah winked and pointed to the Mana generator she'd claimed. 'Is that all the gear you've stolen so far?'
'There are supplies near other compounds. Where did you steal that from?'
'Southern staging base; it is, I mean was, their backup generator; the base still connects to the city's grid.'
Amdirlain huffed. 'I've got some Inventory increases from tonight, but it hit Master and stopped.'
'I guess ninety thousand tonnes is acceptable, newbie,' teased Sarah.
Flipping her the bird, Amdirlain teleported away, but their mental link remained in place.
'This isn't how I wanted to disable the Matriarch's control; there is too much chance for someone to get hurt. I wasn't expecting her to go for a genocide push.'
'We just need to break her military momentum and, while she regroups, we can be more orderly about our dismantling,' reassured Sarah. 'The academics crew have their TAs taking the classes tomorrow; they're reviewing the town plans from the archives, based on the professional survey Cla'nes and company gathered up. With the amount of stuff you're waving under the professors' noses, I expect them to keep their yaps shut for a few days at least.'
'Though they're chomping at the bit, eager to share details about the mysterious cabal that consulted with them. If they run their mouths, it could see people targeting them for information,' grumbled Amdirlain.
'So, I got an orderly misconduct achievement today,' laughed Sarah. 'Along with one for introducing a Pantheon to a world. Stripping their military gear back might have some spectres running free.'
'No, that won't be an issue. I want to ensure the Matriarch isn't able to harvest this achievement to strengthen her troops. I've got a plan to keep a lid on it,' replied Amdirlain. ‘Worst case, I’ll seal the abomination off into a Demi-plane if necessary.’
She reappeared in the abandoned military base and headed into the ghost caverns. The place thrummed with the energy from the transition of souls to the Astral Plane on their way to Judgement. She listened to the trapped military teams still being evacuated through their nation's portals; the withdrawal took them to military bases soon to be threatened within their borders. When she was deep enough that the place's energies shifted into a conduit state, Amdirlain reached out through her cloister pendant.
"I had wondered if we would ever hear from you again," murmured Dagrastûr, his voice the barest whisper through the pendant's connection. "What happened to your hunt for the Fallen?"
"It didn't go well; they weren’t interested in redemption," admitted Amdirlain, wanting to keep the details to herself.
Dagrastûr groaned. "I'm sorry to hear that; I'd hoped the three celestials would want to recover. Concerning your request for help, given your lack of reputation among us, many will be dubious about risking the undertaking. I'm not sure what help we'll be able to offer."
"It’s a Spawning Abomination that generates hordes of spectres. They don't have to commit to destroying the entity without seeing it first. Do you have any that would at least be open to purging spectres and other undead? That’s if they deem combating the creature too risky."
"I know many that would regard the destruction of any undead as worthwhile. It's whether they would be concerned about walking into what might be a trap that will make them hesitate. Between your silence and the resemblance of your True Form to the carvings showing the plinth’s creator, it leaves some wary of giving aid."
"That's understandable," admitted Amdirlain.”But they’ve never met one individual that looked like another?”
"It’s mostly the silence, but some like wild speculations more than sense. Give me a short time. I'll be in touch again," advised Dagrastûr.
Listening to spectres rising from below, Amdirlain waited, ready to kill any that approached.
"What proof can you offer?" asked Dagrastûr through the link a half hour later.
"If you nominate a location for me to open a Gate, I can show you some proof. There is a horde of spectres nearby you’ll be able to see," replied Amdirlain.
"If you would, open a Gate to where we first arrived outside the cloister in a few minutes. I and at least another will investigate your claims," Dagrastûr replied.
Amdirlain smiled. "I'll open the Gate when you’re ready."
Shifting into the best position to see the milling horde, Amdirlain double-checked Dagrastûr was ready before she opened the Gate.
The Abyssal energies radiated from the Plane of Ijmti as the Gate formed and shifted the spectres excitedly, but none came closer. Beyond its threshold, Amdirlain could see Dagrastûr waiting there. He nodded upon seeing her present in her Wood Elf form and took in the unmarked ground and the undead in the cavern beyond her.
Though he constrained himself to one hundred eighty centimetres, he was in a semblance of his True Form. Clotted blood swirled around in his featureless form, the bat-like wings with metallic spurs unfurled as if ready to take flight. The light from Ijmti’s nebulas reflected off the metallic spurs, spraying red-shifted rainbows through the Gate.
Amdirlain stepped aside so Dagrastûr could get an unobstructed view of the spectres milling about the vast cavern. With no circle present around the Gate, it only took a glimpse at spectres for him to decide.
"It's fine to come through," stated Dagrastûr, and he moved through the Gate and stepped clear.
The Fallen that followed him stood five metres tall and had to duck through in her True Form. She was another former Elven Celestial with silvery hair and six wings, covered almost entirely in black soot that let through hints of luminous white. That stained appearance had merged into her eyes, which looked like dull, muddy quartz with thousands of flaws. The vast tracts of bare skin she showed were a forge-heated reddish-brown. Neither the metallic bandage top that strained to keep her full breasts constrained nor her torn, skin-tight metallic pants did much for her modesty. A set of feathery bracers around her wrists and a ring on her finger were the only magical possessions she displayed.
Nodding solemnly at Amdirlain, she put a hand to her chest. "Please call me Te."
"Am," replied Amdirlain, and she received a nod from Dagrastûr as well
When she was through, Dagrastûr motioned to the Gate. "You can close it, Am. Another, older member might join us in the reconnaissance, but she is busy with a troublesome evil. I'll open a Gate for her once she sends word."
Amdirlain nodded and let the Gate close while she checked 'Te'.
[Name: Tinco
Species: Fallen
Class: Knight / Battle Wizard
Level: 5 / 5 / 5
Health: 485,329
Defence: 2,645
Magic: 1,238
Mana: 12,466,110
Melee Attack Power: 2,393
Combat Skills: Sword-Lord [G](3), Bow [G] (73). A wide range of affinities and spell lists.
Details: She had progressed well for aeons as a Solar among the hosts, fighting to keep the gates and passages to Judgement clear of demonic raids. However, her first solo assignment beyond those heavenly hosts couldn’t have gone worse. Baited and tempted by a manipulative Devil, she unleashed her wrath; in the battle that killed that Devil, she burst a dam, killing thousands.
Though her Patron offered to send her through the trial, Tinco desired a chance to re-earn her place through harder endeavours. Her Patron, grieving for her fall, advised her where to find the cloister. She has recently arrived and taken on the elven word for metal as her 'Use' name to represent her need to be reforged in the service of the heavens.
Analysis [S] (35->36)]
Finally tipped Analysis over, I need to remember to use it more. She’s an almost blank slate of Species and Class levels, very new, even at one-fifth experience gain.
Once clear of the gate, Tinco pulled a face at the sight of the horde of spectres in the three-kilometre chamber. Lifting her hand, she caused a silvery single-edged blade—a metre long—to appear in her grasp from the ring on her finger. "There are so many of them."
"This is just the first chamber, and we're only in the fourth cavern in a series. The route to the Spawning Abomination can take weeks or months for mortals to traverse."
Tinco gave Amdirlain a severe smile. "I hope we can work together to regain the Heavens’ blessings."
Amdirlain's bright smile was unreserved, and Tinoc tilted her head in surprise. "I hope so as well, Te."
She's far older than me, but I feel I’m recruiting a kindergartner.
"The mortals come here to fight these foes regularly?" asked Dagrastûr.
"It's the result of a curse. A series of these caverns form near every major city," explained Amdirlain.
"We need to clear through these to get at the Spawning Abomination that you advised Dagrastûr about?" asked Tinco.
"The path to it lies somewhere through these caverns. Whether you fight them or skip past the groups the best you can, I'll not dictate to you," replied Amdirlain.
She frowned, but Tinco hadn't shifted her attention from the closest spectres. "Might I try their strength, Dagrastûr?”
A pair of slender swords appeared in Dagrastûr's hands. "You may. Will you be joining us, Am?"
"I can certainly remain with you for a time. However, I’ll have to step away upon occasion to deal with other matters for the local mortals. I also didn't want to take your chance for an achievement away. The locals gain Tier 7 classes from defeating the spawning abominations, and they fight them in battalions."
"Such is possible?" asked Tinco.
Amdirlain nodded. "I'm unsure if that will be the case this time, as a military conflict has left the city above nearly deserted, but the curse feeds off death. The achievement for those classes requires a significant impact upon the struggles. With Dagrastûr here, I’m not sure what sort of struggle it will be to contain it. If it's too simple, there won’t be a reward.”
Dagrastûr gave a grim sigh. “Such a Class is of little import; the safety of mortals matters. You said they release hordes of undead if left unchecked. How many are we speaking of?”
“I'm sure you're tapped out for class slots; it will matter to Te's strength and who she can help. The abominations release millions of spectres in weeks once fully formed. They can also reach the surface fast, and though the Mortal cities have magical protections, the numbers can overwhelm them.”
Tinco partly turned toward her in surprise. "You've been out on their world?"
"For a few years now, I've been helping with some issues on their world," explained Amdirlain. "We're mid-way through settling the evacuees from the city, hence why I requested help. I don't have enough hands to do everything, and it's frankly greedy to prevent others from helping."
“I’ll gladly stay to purify these caverns of the undead scourge. You’re welcome to stay and assist or go. I can understand the work you are doing to aid the mortals being a priority as their physical needs can’t be ignored,” declared Te.
Dagrastûr nodded. “My thoughts align with Te’s.”
“Then we agree. I’ll start with Radiant Cascade, if that suits you both?” enquired Te.
"As long as we're not near the target zone of anything, there isn't a need to ask, Te," advised Dagrastûr. "If anyone has particular vulnerabilities to spells you use, hopefully, they'll advise you after seeing any of your spells in action."
A hum of energy started on Te's blade, and a hundred needles erupted towards the closest spectres. The Spell ripped through them, and each burst into a fireworks display that tore into others in a chain reaction. The light in the chamber flared, and when the Spell effect ended, thousands of burning wisps of ectoplasm drifted towards the ground.
"That's the way of it?" huffed Dagrastûr. "Perhaps we'll need to take turns."
Tinco frowned. "Is this something we should compete over?"
If we work together, it will have them levelling faster than other celestials. If it's a competition, then they won't.
Listening to Tinco and Dagrastûr’s themes made the choice a straightforward decision.
"Let's work together for a time," suggested Amdirlain. "I have a flame aura that won't hurt allies, but will destroy the undead close to us unless they become massively stronger."
Dagrastûr's wing flexed as he turned back to Amdirlain. "Then I'd suggest you have your aura going. I'll teleport us in line-of-sight hops, and Te can lay waste to those in between for a time. If we accumulate more undead than Te's Spell can handle or she wishes a break, we'll cast our spells."
A test of trust of his own, to let him teleport me. I could move all three of us to the edge of Resonance.
"Agreed," echoed Amdirlain and Te.
The white-hot Primordial flames erupted around the pair, and Te's severe composure broke into a gleeful laugh. "We’re bathing within the fires of creation!"
They reappeared at the start of the passage to the next area, and Dagrastûr immediately hopped them forward. Within hours, the trio had covered thousands of kilometres through the caverns and tunnels. Behind them, they left burning ectoplasm and the incinerated bodies of greater physical undead.
Comments
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter! Yeah! Finally the action is starting up again! I hope the plinth won't consider the matriarch genocide of this city a "consequence of Ams actions" as far as I can see for now the plinth is after literally designed to interpret any action in the worst possible way... Just goes to show HOW BITTER Ornathurin must have been during its creation or perhaps so fearful and disgusted by the possibility of herself e ding up in such a state she made it extra harsh to gain "redemption"!
Glenn Wright
All the aliases catch me at times, especially since she's saying things as well. :)
Luboš Hemala
Good chapter, I can't wait for the Matriarch's smack down :-) "Will you be joining us, Amdirlain?" Does Dagrastur know her full name?
