AbyssalRoadTrip
patreon
Abyssal Road Trip - 320 - Say what you mean
🕑 Added 2023-08-16 15:46:30 +0000 UTCAmdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Quil Tris
Amdirlain crafted a bag of protective amulets and a grimoire with healing spells for Mor’lmes upon returning to the silent apartment. The text was part of the library Ebusuku had picked up for her, yet True Song’s flexibility meant she'd only reviewed its contents.
Scrying for Mor’lmes, what she saw caused her to stop the theme that would connect to his link unit. Still disguised as the silver-furred J and hoping the illusion would cover all the differences in height and reach, Amdirlain went in person.
Her arrival point was a recess that the hexagonal buildings created in the street frontage. The large buildings on either side had allowed them to make a spot of greenery containing a few trees and shrubs. Their old-growth gave her plenty of coverage to disguise her arrival from afternoon pedestrians. The light afternoon traffic in this part of the city allowed Amdirlain to cross between cars. As her flowing steps took her to the curb, vehicles approaching from both directions stopped. Their slowing drew Amdirlain’s attention to the unfurling of her Charisma, and she tried to yank it back in. When Amdirlain walked through the door, recalling Jan’era’s mental commentary made her aware of the sway of her hips and how she scanned the room. Her gliding stride drew the gaze of more than just most of the males inside the cafe.
Amdirlain’s arrival caused the dark blue fur of Mor’lmes’ mate to bristle briefly, but settled as she exhaled and set down her drink. As Amdirlain walked straight up to them, she took in the extent of scarring within the female law keeper’s body. Among her melodies, the enchantments in her left arm extended into her side, down her ribs, and deep into her abdomen. Stopping at the end of their booth, Amdirlain nodded politely and set her bright yellow pack on the table. The heft of the grimoire and the sound of a hundred crystal medallions rubbing against each other caused Mor’lmes’ brows to lift.
“Lovely to see you again, professor Mor’lmes,” purred Amdirlain as she dropped an illusion into place. Gesturing to their drinks and afternoon snacks, she continued. “Sorry for interrupting your afternoon catch-up.”
“J, you turn up in many unexpected places,” said Mor’lmes tightly, and he glanced past Amdirlain at the people staring her way. “This is my mate Wha’sin.”
Amdirlain smiled. “It's an honour to meet you, Wha’sin. We’re already covered with an illusion of social chit-chat. Are the law keeper investigation teams having fun with the mithril?”
“It seems pure and without residual Mana despite how it carved through the ground,” coughed Wha’sin. “They’re still working out how deep the pylons go.”
Amdirlain sketched a glowing outline in the air. “The outer pylons extend shy of three kilometres deep, but a framework of mithril links their bases.”
“That’s an extravagant amount of metal to leave behind,” noted Wha’sin. “I don’t want to even start with the questions about how and what you did to throw that much mass into the sky.”
“Technically beyond the sky since it made it into the void of space. The amount of mithril isn’t an issue since I made it,” advised Amdirlain, and she smiled at Wha’sin. “Hopefully your people will put it to good use.”
Amdirlain heard a melody within Wha’sin calm her thoughts and shrug aside the effect of Amdirlain’s Charisma.
“You’re able to make magical metal?” asked Mor’lmes, and he blinked at the mental calculations on the volumes. “And that much of it?”
As he tensed, Wha’sin tapped Mor’lmes’s leg under the table, and he stopped; It had such an air of a common interaction between them that Amdirlain had to stop herself from laughing.
“We might get into that another time,” stated Amdirlain, and she tapped the grimoire in the bag. “A hundred more of the medallions. The grimoire has a Life Affinity Spell List that might be useful to both of you; they’re more efficient than the spells I’ve heard at hospitals. Wha’sin, would you like to learn it as well?”
“Mor’lmes said it was quite a heady experience learning an Affinity from you,” replied Wha’sin diplomatically.
Amdirlain smiled ruefully. “He started considering how to trap me, and I reacted aggressively. For most affinities, people find it a wondrous experience; unfortunately, there are learnable affinities that decent people find unpleasant. I hate teaching them, but at least some Prestige classes require too many affinities to skip them. Knowing your enemies is the only reason I can see to learn them.”
“So, normally, your teaching doesn’t involve removing body parts?” asked Wha’sin, giving Mor’lmes a grin to make it clear her dig was at him.
“I could have replaced his voice box more gently. In your case, I can repair the organ damage or, if you’d prefer, teach you spells or techniques that would let you do so,” replied Amdirlain, and her voice softened in sympathy. “That’s if you’d like cubs. Even if you don’t, I’m unsure how all the metal isn’t uncomfortable.”
“How can you tell?” asked Wha’sin curiously.
“I’m not limited by line of sight to detect the enchanted objects within you. Some of them are holding your insides together in key points that make it obvious,” observed Amdirlain softly. “Some people aren’t interested in having children so I wouldn’t push that on you. I came to speak to you both about Tulne.”
“I never told you her name,” grumbled Mor’lmes.
Wha’sin rolled her eyes. “We’ll talk about Tulne, but what do you need for that healing?”
“Nothing. Consider it a thank you for the continued dangerous investigations. I’m doing neither of you a favour by telling you about the cult. While ignorance doesn’t make you safe, knowledge about these can get you into dangerous situations,” replied Amdirlain. “Do you want to keep your enchanted arm, or have it healed as well?”
“You don't owe us anything for looking into our problems,” insisted Wha’sin, and she nodded to the bag containing the grimoire. “Is healing me something that the spells in that grimoire can do?”
“There is a difference between investigating because of suspected mental interference and what I told you. Yes, the spells in the grimoire can repair your injuries,” agreed Amdirlain. “Though casting them on yourself would be challenging, so it's lucky that Mor’lmes can also learn them.”
Wha’sin’s whiskers twitched. “If you’d be kind enough to teach me the Life Affinity, I’ll look to master the spells and heal myself and others I know. If I’m seen to cast them on others, we can claim its recovered knowledge unconnected to other events.”
The first touch of Amdirlain’s mind against hers had Wha’sin’s eyes widening. Harmony reached out to touch the life surrounding them, not just in the cafe but the nearby buildings and greenery. When the Affinity clicked into place within Wha’sin’s understanding, Amdirlain gently released her awareness.
“Thank you,” breathed Wha’sin, with an awed smile on her lips. “What would you like to discuss regarding Tulne?”
Even with Wha’sin’s leg reassuringly pressed against his, Mor’lmes still grumbled. “I’d like to know how you even knew about her first.”
“You brought someone back from the dead with an item I created. Of course, I will have a way to check on them. If you make a mistake and bring a raging nut job back, I’d like a way to find them before they kill anyone,” explained Amdirlain. “Tulne believes people will get in trouble with her killer’s law keepers if she provides the name.”
“Yes, that’s what she’s told us,” stated Mor’lmes impatiently.
“Would your giving the name to the law keepers be enough, or is it her word?” asked Amdirlain. “Tulne’s heard wild tales about what a patron pride’s law keepers might do.”
“If I can find where her death occurred, there’d be ways to gather evidence, but they moved her. As it stands, I’ve not got any evidence. She’d have to give the name, and they’d truth read her and then investigate further,” sighed Mor’lmes, frustration tightening his posture. “
“She thought they’d bury the event and anyone knowing about it,” replied Amdirlain.
“The system isn’t perfect, and there have been abuses of the process in the past. Unfortunately, tales of them exist far longer than the actual problem, so some groups remain paranoid about it,” explained Wha’sin. “You’re confirming there is a patron family member involved?”
“There is, but she needs to find the courage to tell Mor’lmes or the law keepers,” replied Amdirlain.
“At least it confirms that I don’t have to look at my other suspects to find evidence. What did you do to get the confirmation from her?” asked Mor’lmes. “Or did you read her mind?”
Amdirlain smiled. “There was no need to read her mind, as I’d confirmed it before speaking to her. I spoke to her and hopefully gave her a reason to find the courage to tell you. I also provided her with a few things. She now possesses all the first tier of affinities, Spatial and Gravity, and a vast library of magical knowledge. I resisted the temptation to give her more.”
The confused look from Mor’lmes wasn’t the reaction she expected. “You group them in tiers?”
Amdirlain’s ears flicked back in confusion. “Of course. How do you arrange them?”
Mor’lmes frowned. “By rarity. What do you count as the first three tiers?”
Amdirlain shrugged and rattled off the list. “Tier one are Earth, Fire, Air, and Water. Tier two comprises Dark, Light, Nature, Decay, Ice, Ooze, Smoke and Magma. While tier three comprises Spatial, Gravity, Life, Death, Lightning, Metal, Radiance, Steam, Void, Dust, Ash and Salt.”
Wha’sin whistled softly. “Any reason you taught her five affinities?”
“She already had Air,” countered Amdirlain, and she got an amused snort from Wha’sin. “I thought it might provide her some measure of protection. Perhaps I should have also taught her Life? Maybe another time.”
Rubbing his muzzle, Mor’lmes hummed. “I was working on getting her a working apprenticeship. She can always take exams later for certification. Gravity is rare among those who take on apprentices; having Spatial as well will be next to impossible.”
“Make them an offer they can’t refuse,” quipped Amdirlain.
The look of confusion from Mor’lmes was priceless. “What would that be? The magical library you gave Tulne might tempt them, but what's to ensure they’d keep her on after they’ve looked through it?”
Amdirlain wrinkled her nose mischievously. “The library is a funny thing, a puzzle attuned to her alone. She must pass the examinations at each level to access the next texts. Anyone trying to unravel the enchantments to gain access sooner will destroy the contents.”
Mor’lmes gave an amused snort. “Ensuring she can’t hurt herself by delving into difficult texts too fast, and others can’t get her to transcribe all the information and rip her off.”
“That was my intent. If you get her a teacher you trust between you, I’ll give them the same affinities. I said I’d provide you with tools to help against the Eldritch, but I didn’t say that’s all I’d be doing.”
“No one would believe me,” protested Mor’lmes.
“Please arrange a meeting time here in a few days with the person you think is best suited to taking Tulne as an apprentice. I’ll assess if I’m happy to teach them the same affinities,” proposed Amdirlain. “Tell them you want to discuss a potential apprentice and reimbursement. I’ll call tomorrow afternoon to get the time from you.”
“Why did you help her?” asked Wha’sin.
“She’s a frightened girl who’s had her dreams shattered when one of her goals is to learn more to help others. Some might ask why I didn’t do more, having done so much,” replied Amdirlain.
Tapping the table, Wha’sin smiled. “You gave Mor’lmes the tool to help even before you knew what she was like, didn’t you?”
Amdirlain returned the smile with a rueful shrug. “I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting a campus student to be fifteen. Once I saw her, I wanted to do more.”
Wha’sin moved along in the booth, motioning Amdirlain to the seat beside her. “Would you sit down?”
“Thank you, though I don’t plan to keep you long,” replied Amdirlain. “Are you the peacemaker of the two of you?”
As Amdirlain sat across from him, Mor’lmes tensed, but Wha’sin pressed her foot against his shin. The tension eased from Mor’lmes, and Amdirlain caught that it was a reassurance rather than reprimand being conveyed.
“I simply have a different approach and perspective to things,” replied Wha’sin. “It's going to be hard to order you something if an illusion stops the server from hearing us.”
Amdirlain smiled. “I’m fine, thanks. Would you enlighten me on why you’re calm?”
Wha’sin motioned between Amdirlain and Mor’lmes with a relaxed wave. “Given how easily you dealt with my mate, if you wanted us dead, we’d already be dead. That means you’re here to talk to us, not kill us. Isn’t that the case?”
“Correct,” confirmed Amdirlain.
“Once I realised that, a Class ability I have let me set aside the distractions of your Charisma, whereas Mor’lmes gets his hackles up when others try to dominate a room he’s in,” explained Wha’sin.
“Interesting, is that from a Power or a Skill?” enquired Amdirlain.
Wha’sin smiled mysteriously. “His reaction is pure grumpiness, whereas for mine, how about a trade? How do you grant affinities?”
“I teach, not grant, though a combination of two powers and my experience with them,” allowed Amdirlain.
“I resist the effect of your Charisma through a Power common to the Custodian Class variations that many law keepers train,” explained Wha’sin. “Its name is Clear Focus. You can’t keep the law if a high Charisma individual can get their crimes excused or convince you another is the perpetrator. Whatever provides people classes seems to understand changes in society.”
I wonder if Gideon has named other classes after aspects?
“Advanced Telepathy and Harmony, the second is an evolution of Meditation,” advised Amdirlain. “The first from species evolutions, the second from a Class learnable by mortals. It’s possible arcane forms of telepathy could substitute.”
“If a Mortal had that second Class, could they learn by themselves?” Wha’sin asked.
“Yes,” acknowledged Amdirlain. “But we might speak of it another time; it's a Class that takes lots of dedication and isn’t as showy as Wizard. Have you had time to get someone to investigate the printing company, Mor’lmes?”
“I asked an observer team to work on it. According to the business directory, they’re a printing house specialising in custom printing, training manuals, and materials for educational courses, that sort of work,” advised Mor’lmes. “You’re sure these sigils work when printed, and someone didn’t draw over the top of it?”
“Yes, it's honestly a nightmare situation,” confirmed Amdirlain.
Mor’lmes's mouth twisted into a sour expression. “We’ll get information on their customers and where they shipped the books. The cult must have them custom printed; the books you found, they’re not listed for retail sale. We’ve already checked the titles you gave me with a few major bookstores. They’ve not heard of them.”
“Thanks for looking into it so promptly. During my clean-up of the Spellclash situation, I learnt I'm not able to help you as much as I’d hoped,” advised Amdirlain, and she spotted a suspicious gleam in Mor’lmes’ gaze. “Go ahead, say what you’re thinking.”
“Going back on your word to resolve this mess?” asked Mor’lmes.
“It’s not my mess. However, I intend to stay and assist until it's resolved. The problem is my approaching some cult locations will be problematic, especially the site beneath the campus. I’m not breaking my word, and I’ll provide tools for use now and in the future,” advised Amdirlain. “Do you need a reminder of what my not helping will cost?”
“You already told me the cost if we didn’t contribute. You don’t need to tell me about those strangers; people I know have already effectively vanished before my eyes,” responded Mor’lmes. “My mentors walk around like they’re them, but they’re not.”
The possibility that they were also skinwalkers drew a sigh from Amdirlain. “Your mentors might have been involved in the cult when you were studying on the campus. The cult seems to have a progressive membership path, stepping up through membership levels and councils, indoctrinating them as they go. How noticeable was the change in them?”
“A degenerative disease, isn’t that what you compared it to? Well, it has a savage tipping point along its course. One day, they were still people I knew and respected, and then they weren’t. They knew the answers to questions I asked in passing, but the way they speak isn’t them,” replied Mor’lmes.
“Like someone or something else is wearing their skin?” asked Amdirlain.
“Not quite, but their answers about favourite topics lost their zeal. That’s when I started to ask about matters debated in the past, and their attitudes were dismissive. More drained of interest, and sometimes there is a blackness in their gaze that doesn’t belong,” acknowledged Mor’lmes grimly, and his facial scars drew tight.
Amdirlain nodded. “What are their names?”
When Mor’lmes shared their names, Analysis advised her their problem was ‘mere’ corruption, though both were highly involved in the cult.
“I’m sorry,” offered Amdirlain. “They are part of the cult and have been for a while, given they’re in the third council. When I purge the Eldritch corruption, I don’t know if anything will remain of the people you know.”
“If you’d do that, then at least they’re not spreading this sickness to others,” offered Mor’lmes. “I’ll give you their home addresses.”
“That’ll be handy, but I’m not a local. An image suitable for a Greater Teleport would be preferable,” she countered. “Would you cast a divination Spell to scry an area near their homes for me?”
Mor’lmes nodded and presented images of two apartment high rises. The filigree patterns on their exteriors looked like some she’d seen decorating shops downtown. Within the pattern were the addresses and names of each building.
After he gave their apartment details, Amdirlain nodded sympathetically. “Appreciated. I’m sorry for your loss. I’ll let you get back to your afternoon. Oh, and since I can’t help as much with the Eldritch, I’ll do something about making your Gods’ Grave easier to deal with. It at least follows the rules.”
“Wait! You can’t just blow it up. They reform and send stretches of ghost caverns towards the surface in unexpected places,” announced Wha’sin hurriedly.
Shaking her head, Amdirlain sighed. “Blowing it up isn’t on my list. It's a dimensional construct created by a pantheon, inserted into the boundary between the Material and Astral planes. Even if I was strong enough, the place is both a menace to your people and a whetstone strengthening you and providing materials. Its destruction, without planning for a transition, would hamstring your industry.”
“Are you trying to credit them for that?” snapped Mor’lmes.
“No, they left a curse behind to destroy those who’d rejected them. You adapted to it and let it strengthen you. Your people gain levels and achievements, controlling the Gods' Grave manifestations. Also, where would your industries be without the metals and magical materials from the caverns? Destroying it without planning for the repercussions would hurt many in the short and long term,” replied Amdirlain, and she vanished.
Stepping around the corner of the base camp’s entryway, Amdirlain found Livia by herself, working through a kata.
“Sorry I had to rush off,” said Amdirlain to announce herself.
“You missed dinner,” quipped Livia, only after she completed the kata. “We ate early, young lady. What time do you call this?”
“Sun’s still in the sky; I’m being stuffed full of food by concerned individuals every time I turn around,” reassured Amdirlain. “Not like I need it. Did Cyrus and Kadaklan head off?”
“Yep, Cyrus took Kadaklan home and then came back. I sent him to the Outlands so he didn’t have to annoy the dragons tending the stairs,” advised Livia. “Kadaklan said you had one trouble spot on your leg.”
“Yeah, and I found I can’t go near certain Eldritch materials,” advised Amdirlain.
Livia strode over and hugged Amdirlain. When she released her, Livia ran her fingers across Amdirlain’s ears, patting them gently. “So cute!”
“Really?” grumbled Amdirlain.
“What! None of the other Catfolk would let me squee at their cuteness and pat their ears,” protested Livia. “You’ll not deny your daughter the opportunity, will you?”
Amdirlain groaned and growled, but Livia kept petting.
“Besides the Eldritch materials, how did things go today?” Livia asked after she finally stopped.
“I need to be careful of my figures of speech, but otherwise fine,” admitted Amdirlain.
“Such as?” questioned Livia.
Amdirlain snorted, and her ears twitched as she shared a safe issue. “They consider faith an unsuitable word for polite conversation. Hopefully, we have a couple of hours to talk, but I don’t know how long before people show up at the apartment.”
“Oh? What was that guilty twitch about?”
“I had another less offensive but embarrassing run-in with the social implications of certain words.”
“I’m ever more curious now,” announced Livia. “Come, sit down and tell me what happened.”
“I’m never going to speak of it,” insisted Amdirlain.
Livia pouted. “Alright, fine. Still, sit down and tell me about your issue with Eldritch materials.”
Amdirlain followed Livia and sat on a reclining couch opposite her. “A picture’s worth a thousand words. Getting close to them did this to the network in my legs.”
The glowing illusion hung in the air between them, and Livia winced. Gritting her teeth, she fixed Amdirlain with a serious look. “Let me guess, despite that, we’re still staying?”
“Yes, but I’m going to handle things a bit differently. I’ll handle everything at arm’s length until my leg’s net is recovered,” conceded Amdirlain.
“Arm’s length is as close as they need to be for you to punch and kick them,” critiqued Livia.
Dramatically sighing, Amdirlain made her shoulders and ears droop. “I’ll resist temptation until my legs are better.”
Livia gave a disapproving hum, but the sparkle in her gaze gave away her amusement. “Make sure you cycle regularly while you’re playing musician. I’m so going to tell Moke you told people you were a Bard.”
“I’m considering teaching some of them how to unlock their Ki,” announced Amdirlain quickly to change the subject.
“Don’t you have enough to do between the Eldritch and mastering your Charisma?”
“There is that, but Ki can heal much better than the arcane spells I saw their healers using,” argued Amdirlain. “I gave them a better Spell List, which should improve things as it's distributed.”
Livia raised a brow. “And if they hoard it.”
“Then I’ll give out a million copies and set crystals to give people the Affinity.” laughed Amdirlain.
Moloch’s PoV - Culerzic
His human form grew to five metres tall, grinding the finger bones and rotting flesh underfoot into the marble floor. The target of his experiment started to beg but hadn’t even finished a coherent sentence when his fist closed. Moloch released the Balor’s heart and retracted his hand to examine the black blood coating it, but the pain within his flesh didn’t bode well.
It was as well he didn’t get his hopes up as smoke erupted from the blood, and soon, a red feather with a golden core showed on the back of his hand. When the last of the smoke faded, every line of the feather was again visible, along with the runes along the core. Every delicate line etched his flesh with pain that seemed Celestial in origin but was not.
[Songbird’s Mark
Details: The Titan’s Songbird has left a mark on you. If they spend the energy, this mark will enable them to find you, regardless of concealments used by those who might steal you away.
It's a true blessing to have the eye of the realm’s creator upon you eternally.]
Unsupported, the body flopped onto a pile of hands, showing a blank feather burn mark, causing more rotting flesh and bone to spray across the floor.
Moloch hissed in dissatisfaction. “Any other ideas?”
In the silence came the flipping of pages and memory crystals being thrown about before one of the knowledge demons squeaked in reply. “We’ll cross off blood from a Planar Locked Balor. Not yet, your mightiness. However, coating it in Balor's blood to disrupt the blessing was a long shot. The research points towards needing one of the legendary triumvirate of dragons to get useful information. None of them is the type to be approachable by yourself. Unless you are on favourable terms with a Draconic deity that might contact their primal mother here in the Abyss.”
“There is an Abyssal Red I’m on speaking terms with, though I don’t know who she worships,” said Moloch, and he turned to issue an order to Bliss only to freeze. “The word 'erëa,' did you find out what it means?”
A squeaking Gilöglp Demon stuck its ferret-like face above a book stack. “It means ‘one’ your mightiness. It's from the High Elven tongue, taught by the Anar and the Lómë to every elven species they created.”
“I know that! But why is it along the shaft and every fibre of the feather’s web?” questioned Moloch.
“Well, it doesn’t mean precisely one; its accenting implies ‘one of’ rather than ‘one’ alone,” announced another Gilöglp, but he didn’t show himself from within the stacks.
“One of you said the Lómë are trapped in Ternòx. Have you found someone to bring one of them to me?”
“They’re no longer trapped and potentially deceased. The caverns they lived in seem to have all exploded. Pressure waves rolled through tunnels for millions of kilometres. Their caverns all collapsed, buildings and vegetation splintered into dust. The devastation wiped out demonic towns and cities that were too close.”
Clenching his marked hand, Moloch growled. “When?!”
The Gilöglp lowered himself so only the top of his eyes were above the book stack. “Yesterday, your mightiness. We were examining some known locations from a distance when the explosion occurred. It even destroyed the focal point of the scrying spells. We’re still gaining all the information and trying to determine the full extent of the devastation.”
“Knowledge isn’t useful unless delivered promptly,” snarled Moloch, his Human features twisting in anger.
“None of us can return the dead to life; inaccurate information might be even worse.”
Moloch's expression calmed. “I need advice on events immediately and to be informed if more time is required for a full report.”
The Gilöglp catapulted into the cavern wall behind it, and the pressure held it there and squeezed it into a pulp. “I hope the rest of you now know better?”
They hurriedly provided a dozen affirmative squeaks.
“Now, find me a way to sever this mark from my flesh,” said Moloch; his sudden calm, conversational tone sent chills up the listeners' spines.
Stalking his hand off, he went to find an assistant to arrange a tribute caravan and was mentally composing a suitable letter. The Yang fires that formed the feather under his skin kept his regeneration at bay.
Comments
Glenn Wright
Amdirlain said she sent a one-word message with the energy, though she didn't expect the mark or it to linger. More juice left in her than she's aware of just got to tap into it, even without the removed power.
Luboš Hemala
Much gentler approach, but Mor’lmes still deserves a stink-eye, he can be such a douche. And interesting cameo at the end, didn't expect that :-)
Kemizle
thanks for the chapter
