AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 312 - Black Ice
🕑 Added 2023-07-29 12:17:07 +0000 UTCAmdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Quil Tris
With the surrounding distortion dramatically lessened, Amdirlain reactivated True Sight. Examining the vault’s controls, she heard the residue of four people operating the controls spread across its surface. The knobs and curved impression seemed more suitable for tentacled beings than any Catfolk, but traces of those who’d used them were present. The interactions left impressions and energies that advised Amdirlain what they’d touched. Despite the vastness of the door, neither True Sight nor Resonance found runes or lingering magical energies, only the Eldritch hiss.
With the lack of security measures attached, Amdirlain would have pulled the vault door into Inventory. Faced with the Eldritch saturation, she gradually disintegrated a path instead. The echoing space beyond wasn't a place for riches, but a large summoning chamber with a 40-metre circle at its centre. Warped cuneiform runes within its boundary seemed to blur in True Sight and spoke volumes of its connection to Eldritch beings.
Amdirlain found the items racked around the space’s edges fascinating and macabre. Hundreds of silvered-glass jars held incorporeal undead, from ghosts to wraith lords. Yet regardless of their strength or placement, every one of them avoided looking towards the circle. The presence of so many undead, even secured as they were, had sucked the heat from the room and painted the walls in black ice.
None of the undead looked fully Catfolk but were instead misshapen and twisted into a mockery of the lives they might have represented. However, there wasn’t a Soul among them, only fragments of personas providing a framework for their hate and hunger.
Secondary circles around the chamber seemed designed to feed energy to the primary summoning, and all the jars were the right size to sit within them. Amdirlain confirmed the cultists used undead for summoning rituals by analysing the residue.
Drawing on the Power of Daylight, Amdirlain repeatedly flooded the chamber. Though the silvered glass held them in, it gave the undead nowhere to hide.
[Combat Summary:
Ghosts: x36
Spectres x92
Wraith x15
Wraith-Lord x3
Total Experience gained: 459,400
Ostimë: +229,700
Ontãlin: +229,700
Daylight [J] (3->4)
Note: Stooping to kill fish in a barrel with hand grenades?]
The twisted summoning circle likely represented thousands of hours of work. Amdirlain disintegrated it in seconds, not wanting to leave metals soaked in Eldritch energies about the place.
As she turned to leave, she spotted a few dozen aged texts magically preserved on a shelf at the end of one rack, and Amdirlain flipped through them by age. The first was an arcane archeologist’s journal in an antique form of their tongue. It covered years of expeditions to ancient sites. The entries sometimes skipped months, with it clear that what had held their interest were in other works. The author detailed the highlights of moving between places. He spent years searching for knowledge but, in a dramatic change, lusted for a power he was sure would undo the gods' scourge. The first doodle in the margins appeared at the end of that entry. The author had attempted to scribble it out, but the edges were those of mind-warping imagery.
In the next journal, other nightmarish images appeared until, towards the end, they were on every second page. Journal by journal, they occurred more frequently until they filled margins instead of a single image. In the last journals, they even started mid-page, the flow of words interrupted by a scribbled sigil, only for the entry to continue as if nothing had occurred. Excitement and concern arose when they talked about lost days and spells they couldn’t recall creating, yet they persisted.
The third to last journal ended with an ecstatic entry:
‘The glacier’s shadow contained the pool, as the ruins said. I’ve looked into its depths and know theirs were the warnings of the jealous worshipers. All because they were jealous of others gaining powers their gods couldn’t understand and weren’t indebted to them. Power to let us seal away the scourge is in my grasp. The path here has been hard, but it’s all worth it now. The return will be easy; preparations begin tomorrow to return us all to Osaphis.’
From there, the last journals changed from personal thoughts to nonsensical calculations. Their focus was a summoning circle to bring the children from the void, all to wake the darkness to consume the scourge. Amdirlain found the schematic of the destroyed summoning circle in the last journal amidst complaints of failing health. Even within those careful notes, they’d marked every page with doodles that caught the eye.
The doodles were but the songs of ink and parchment to Resonance. Yet each of them tried to twist at her awareness to varying degrees. Doodles left in old or new texts could start the cycle again.
Amdirlain hadn’t come to Quil Tris just to kill the existing Eldritch. She’d been planning to find records of the sites where Eldritch creatures had first appeared and clean up the stone of their resting places. But now it was clear it wasn’t just all the sites where the Eldritch had rested she needed to find. The writing of involved mortals from centuries past could contain the seeds of contamination.
It will take more than me to resolve the current mess. I’ll need to equip others to root this out.
As she considered options for the rest of the evening and her worn state, she caught a sense of new arrivals on the grounds above. Reaching out to touch a sentry’s mind, she found things had progressed. The law keepers had secured the outside of the building, put up portable Radiant lighting, and begun exploring the building. Now stronger teams had arrived to breach the stone plug in the deep lift shaft.
The Primordial lava filling the tunnels was still white hot and would be for days. It was an energy those above could likely detect, but if so, it hadn’t discouraged their preparations. Rather than dig through more minds, she opted for a different approach to avoid them harming themselves.
Playing Poltergeist might buy me time to alter the song.
Fairly certain experimenting with the undead under a hospital wasn’t legal, Amdirlain tried for a delay. The jars filled with smouldering ectoplasm started to appear in the entry, blocking the progress of those nearest the lift shaft. When the team backed off, Amdirlain continued until she emptied the racks.
Scrying out a target across the planes, Amdirlain altered the song to suit. While she sang to move the lava, she scoured all traces of the Eldritch from the summoning chamber. An hour of the team clearing the foyer of traps and examining the jars gave Amdirlain all the time she needed. With preparation complete, Amdirlain sent the mega-tonnes of lava across the planes and plunging into Culerzic’s Umbra Sea.
With the last traces of Eldritch influence removed from the summoning chamber, Amdirlain started towards her ‘home’ for the night.
Away from the tunnels and lingering energies, Amdirlain stopped off to resume her Catfolk form and restore concealments. Only once she felt comfortable did she return to Jal’krin’s apartment. As Amdirlain sat on the bench, she took in Jal’krin’s slumbering song and checked the crystal that maintained the illusion. With no record of anyone approaching it, she slid back under the blankets and closed her eyes to meditate. Her Ki energies allowed her to heal the last of her injuries and the strain of challenging songs, giving Protean time to recover from the evening’s efforts.
Jal’krin blinked in surprise when he awoke to a well-cooked meal that Amdirlain had duplicated from the first eatery. Even the sink’s sideboard showed evidence of the preparations, mimicked from the same venue.
“You don’t have any bread, and your ice chest is nearly empty,” stated Amdirlain. “Want to clear space at the table?”
Jal’krin blinked sleepily at her before taking a plate and fork from her. “I normally don’t eat here. Where did you get this from?”
“It’s all I’d had left in my travel pack,” replied Amdirlain. “Eating at home is better on the budget unless you’re freeloading.”
“Eggs as well?” asked Jal’krin as he cut one with the edge of his fork, plainly ignoring her dig.
“There is a trick to it,” Amdirlain answered evasively. “How do you normally get to the store?”
Jal’krin swallowed a mouthful of food and waved his fork towards the front door. “Transporter route to the campus goes along this street.”
“I’ll see you there at opening time. What’s the transporter’s details?’
“Look out for the green signage. Any transporter with that will get you there; the higher numbers stop more frequently,” advised Jal’krin, and he nodded towards her. “Don’t you have any other clothes?”
Inhaling the last of her breakfast, Amdirlain left the plate beside the sink and scooped up her gear. “I’ll go shopping this morning. I cooked; you can wash.”
At a yawn that she took for agreement, despite it being more of a protest, Amdirlain headed out.
The thoughts she’d caught from Jal’krin had a point. She’d chosen to ‘cook’ without asking, and apparently, he wasn’t a fan of eggs and the meat she’d picked. Only a gap-year student’s ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ attitude had kept him from rejecting the food.
Hopping off the transporter, still a ten-minute walk from the store, Amdirlain wandered through the shops and ducked into a female facility. After a quick appearance change, she exited taller and silvery-furred wearing a grey leather top and pants. After weighing up how things might go, she topped it off with an eye-drawing yellow bag and hat.
She returned to a large cafe where each booth was equipped with an Artificer analogy of a telephone, though there were some differences. Injecting a tendril of Mana, she picked the cheapest option for her first use. Tracing a quick note onto the unit's metal plate, she dispatched it to the law keeper station, letting the patrollers know she’d arrived safely. She somewhat fudged the truth, saying she had a place to stay and employment.
The second place she contacted was riskier since she picked their contact details from an observer’s brain. As her fingers danced across the activation sequence for their direct unit, Amdirlain rechecked their details.
[Name: Mor’lmes, Silverspring Pride
Species: Catfolk (variant)
Class: Grave Delver / Arcane Scholar / Arcane Investigator / Radiant Purifier
Level: 39 / 38 / 38 / 38
Health: 19,496
Defence: 473
Magic: 616
Mana: 2,199,808
Melee Attack Power: 492
Combat Skills: Energy Projector [S] (12), Staff [M] (54), Club [Ad] (15), Various affinities and multiple spell lists.
Details: One of the youngest military personnel to gain a Grave Delver Prestige Class. After the debriefing was completed, Mor’lmes received medical retirement. He went into teaching and earned a tenured professor spot at the triumvirate campus. The odd behaviour of a pair of professors he’d known while studying there started him investigating their new associates.
Since then, his initial hired investigators have expanded into a substantial group. Their work has got a portion of the cultist’s network under surveillance, but so far haven’t discovered what they’re looking at. They have uncovered many others with similar concerns to Mor’lmes’ in the years since. His family’s money now supports many undertaking full-time investigations.]
[Radiant Purifier
Details: This evolved base Class is available to those who have combined Undead Slayer into at least a Tier 4 Prestige Class. Its major requirements are access to three affinities: Radiant, Positive, and Death.]
While waiting for the unit to connect, Amdirlain put a sound barrier around her booth. The link’s chime finally announced a successful connection, but there was only silence at the other end.
“Did your observers get any images of the tunnels beneath The Lakeside Retreat?” asked Amdirlain.
“Who is this?” asked Mor’lmes, his voice rasped and crackled. Even expecting it, Amdirlain wondered if there wasn’t a better magical prosthetic option he could use.
“The chambers and tunnels beneath the plug with the warning symbol. Did they get images, or did your observation spells not have the reach?”
Mor’lmes clicked his tongue, and for a moment, she was sure he wouldn’t answer. “I’m not interested in playing games.”
“That’s good, because neither am I, but neither of us has anyone we trust in common,” advised Amdirlain. A customer ogling her caught a baneful glare that had him fix his attention on his drink.
I need to get some longer performance slots to play with my Charisma.
“Let’s establish trust. Start by answering the question, who are you?” persisted Mor’lmes.
“I’m sitting in a link cafe a few kilometres from the campus,” stated Amdirlain, and she gave him the location and described herself. “I know what happened to the professors you admired, why they changed. So either come for answers or don’t, Professor Grave Delver.”
Mor’lmes growled. "How did you get that information?"
“You’ve thirty minutes to be here,” replied Amdirlain, and she hung up.
After ordering a drink from a passing server, she settled down to wait.
Pretending to dial another connection, Amdirlain set up a concealment on the seat beside her. Drawing on the experiments they'd conducted to protect Gail’s thoughts, Amdirlain created some crystal medallions with enchantments of mental resilience. Songs linked to the enchantment would cause it to warm if an Eldritch disturbance was nearby.
Throughout the wait, she went through a refill and a large breakfast to stop the server from asking her to leave. Five minutes before her time limit Amdirlain saw results. In addition to observing spells appearing in the cafe, a tired-looking couple wandered in the door. Unlike the rest of the crowd, they had matching attire of grey pants and shirts, perfect for nighttime stalking. Their eyes fixed straight ahead as they came in and sat in another booth with a line of sight on her. Though they pretended not to see her, Amdirlain gave the observers a merry wave, her ears twitching happily.
Mor’lmes entered the busy cafe after them with a thumping step, leaning heavily on the gnarled staff in his right hand. The veteran was missing his right ear, his muzzle and scalp were heavily scarred, and a white scarf encircled his neck. The end draped across the shoulders of his muted green half robes. His outer robe ended mid-thigh, revealing his matching pants, mithril leg brace, and practical black ankle-high boots that framed neatly groomed claws. He started towards Amdirlain without his hazel gaze even flickering towards the observers.
Amdirlain took in his thoughts of what he’d considered ordering as a cover for randomly sitting with an alluring young female.
“Do you mind if I join you?” asked Mor’lmes, his voice harsher in person than over the link’s connection.
“Not at all, Professor Mor’lmes. I believe you take your cafe with one sugar,” advised Amdirlain, and she moved the link unit she’d faked using towards the wall. “Are you going to bother ordering or do you want people to talk?”
“What do I call you?” asked Mor’lmes, his wary tone showing he didn’t expect an answer.
Setting the sound barrier back in place, Amdirlain’s whiskers curled up, but she made sure not to display teeth. “J will do fine.”
“After your evasions on the call, I shouldn’t have expected an honest answer,” grumbled Mor’lmes.
“Names have power, and you like mysteries. Why should I tell you about myself so easily?” laughed Amdirlain, and she slid a medallion across the table to him. “A gesture of goodwill.”
Scooping another score of medallions from the seat, she set them on the table next to her cup.
Mor’lmes’ eyes flared wide at the enchantment's strength, pulling scars across his nose tight. “What is it you want?”
“I need help. You need help. I figured we could help each other,” admitted Amdirlain. “If you’re not interested, I’ll hopefully find someone else who has gotten at least as far as your group. It's that or setting up one from scratch, which is frankly time I’d rather not spend.”
“You look like a child playing dress up and imitating a disreputable aunt,” observed Mor’lmes.
Giggling, Amdirlain tapped the table, and her tail thumped against her leg. As quickly as it began, her amusement cut off, and a fraction of Amdirlain’s willpower turned her gaze to steel. “More like I’m playing dress up as a child and not doing a good enough job. The Life Affinity is wonderful to keep one looking young; you should learn it.”
Mor’lmes grunted. “A sound barrier won’t stop someone from reading our lips.”
“You’ve had that much trouble?” questioned Amdirlain.
“Yes.”
Nodding, Amdirlain added a True Song illusion of them chatting about ritual circles. “Ask your observers what we’re chatting about now.”
“You haven’t changed the Spell,” declared Mor’lmes without sending a Message.
Amdirlain twitched an ear questioningly. “Oh?”
His ears flattened out, but he sent the Message, only to straighten at the response. “Did you overlay an illusion about the sound barrier’s Mana so it hides your new Spell from me?”
“Not what I did, but we could play this game all day. Why don’t you cast the detection spells you know on the medallion?” requested Amdirlain, catching his plans from his mind. “Or even just the ones you learnt in the military. You’re what, in your early thirties? I’d mistake you for a Catfolk in their sixties, at least with how worn you look.”
“It’s the miasma in the grave; it wears at one,” explained Mor’lmes, and his gaze narrowed. “You know much about our group, but not about that? Interesting.”
“We all have our specialities in life,” replied Amdirlain.
Amdirlain flagged a server down and ordered for him while Mor’lmes was still casting. He progressed rapidly through increasingly advanced spells on the medallion.
“What do you think influenced the odd behaviour in your former teachers?” asked Amdirlain.
“How do I know there isn’t an illusion about these interfering with the results of my spells?” interrogated Mor’lmes, jabbing a claw at the medallion.
Tilting her head towards the couple, Amdirlain smiled. “They’ve been up all night; you could have them take it to someone after finishing their drinks. Get it to the teams in the vehicles outside or someone else to inspect it. We can meet another time or discuss things you feel aren’t too sensitive.”
“What would be the purpose of talking now?”
“Laying the groundwork for future trust, and I’ve information that will help your people stay safe,” replied Amdirlain. “Regardless of whether we cooperate long term, I’ll give you that information freely. So I’ll ask again, what do you think is the problem with your professors and the others?”
“There are many theories, we’re still gathering information to determine their validity,” hedged Mor’lmes.
“If you had to propose a theory based on currently available data, what would it be?” queried Amdirlain. “I want to know how far off the path you are.”
“A magical mental illness because of a contagion brought back from a dig or a cursed object. Worse case, someone is seeking to revive gods the ancients cast out and has brainwashed them into helping,” proposed Mor’lmes, his jaw clenched at the last, but his gaze showed disbelief. Amdirlain plucked out all the other theories his consideration brought up, but none touched on beings like the Eldritch.
“Your worst case isn’t worst case enough,” critiqued Amdirlain.
Mor’lmes titled his head curiously. “Are you involved with whoever dug the message into the wall at the retreat?”
Amdirlain nodded. “I cut the warning in the wall, laid out the pieces on the floor and made the plug. Then I killed the host of monsters in the tunnels, including some imprisoned undead, and destroyed a summoning circle. And yes, I also healed all the worthy patients and reversed the age of the staff to match the oldest of their untainted memories. Their exposure and Class selection badly crippled some to resisting the Eldritch influence. Oh, and I shouldn’t forget, I listed the crimes of the dying monsters only pretending to be people and removed some classes.”
Mor’lmes blinked at the term Eldritch, and his gaze widened at Amdirlain’s list. “What are you?”
“I wondered if you’d jump straight there. I’m not Mortal and not looking for worship. However, I want to save your world from the infestation that’s started on it,” advised Amdirlain, projecting calm reassurance. “Beings that shouldn’t be here are the source of your issue. They eat up life and damage the realm, changing it to fit their incomprehensible mindset. Once they consume your world, if not before, they’ll try to move on to others. Let’s stop them from destroying your city as our first step and worry about the rest later.”
“You lied to me. You’re not young because of Life Affinity,” accused Mor’lmes.
“I said the Life Affinity is wonderful to keep one looking young,” countered Amdirlain. “And suggested you try to gain it. How you took that was your own business.”
Mor’lmes exhaled slowly and ground out a question between clenched teeth. “Why does the stone in all the tunnels look melted?”
“Okay, we’ll continue with the interrogation,” quipped Amdirlain, causing Mor’lmes to shift nervously before he firmed his resolve and locked gazes with her.
Amdirlain caught his suspicion that she brought him here to have hostages or at least to keep him from using his strongest spells. His hands tightened around his cup, and when he spoke, the metallic tone of his voice hardened. “Do I have to ask you six times or something?”
“I filled them with lava to melt the mind-altering patterns on the walls. Then, despite my warning, the law keepers started work to break through the plug. Since I infused the lava with Primordial Mana, it would take weeks to cool, so I emptied the tunnels. Even with the patterns gone, the entities have infused the stone with their energies, which is why it is grey near the surface and black further down. While not immediately harmful, spending much time down there isn’t safe,” reported Amdirlain. “I’ll peel out more of it later, but I’ll likely have to eject it further than the lava. At least one site I must destroy is six linked hexagonal buildings made from black stone. I’d like to know if there are others.”
Mor’lmes nodded. “You melted stone there last night as well?”
With a grin, Amdirlain returned his nod.
“They have similar outreach centres in other cities. What are they?” asked Mor’lmes.
“I’d like pictures of each of those locations. Pictures of all their locations, actually, particularly those made from black stone so that I can check them. Hopefully, my being so forthcoming will be taken favourably in any decision by your group to work with me,” said Amdirlain. “The problem with talking about these entities is that I don’t know how much planar theory you know.”
“Are they from the fabled Abyss?” interrogated Mor’lmes. His racing thoughts caught her by surprise. With them having Tier 7 classes, Amdirlain wasn’t expecting so minimal awareness of the planar landscape.
“Wow, fabled. That right there is, wow,” snorted Amdirlain.
Her reaction raised Mor’lmes’ hackles. “The elemental planes have been confirmed. We have enough strife here without dying exploring other places.”
“Think of reality like a ritual circle,” started Amdirlain. Plotting out her explanation, Amdirlain started tracing expanding circles above her empty breakfast plate. “Now think of the Material Plane as the inside of that ritual circle. There is the space this world takes up, that used by the stars, other planets, etc. The elemental plane is within the first circle boundary, with multiple touchpoints to the Material Plane. They are in harmony with the weaker forms of energy, the easiest effects a ritual can change. The runes between the circles are pathways that link to the outer circle or, in this analogy, the outer planes, the energies out there can be dangerous. Beyond the outer planes and the limits of our reality is the Far Chaos. These beings come from there, and in the Far Chaos, our reality’s rules are meaningless and ignored.”
“Then how do they even exist here?” huffed Mor’lmes.
“Through particular forms of madness attuning a mind to them, they can gain a bridge. Those influenced by these entities have nightmare dreams filled with visions and sigils. If these sigils are accurately rendered, it can invoke the same madness in others, creating more bridges,” explained Amdirlain.
“I’m not saying I believe you. But how would one stop them?”
“With a lot of work. Killing or imprisoning all the summoned Eldritch beings and cleaning up all their sigils,” explained Amdirlain. “Fortunately, the madness isn’t common; those unfortunate souls most susceptible frequently shatter rather than gain enough power to summon them. However, once the Eldritch beings have a beachhead, it’s hard to drive them out. Why? Because seeing them is more likely to induce attuned madness in those ignorant or unprotected, and thus providing another bridge.”
At her last statement, Amdirlain slid the rest of the medallions across to him.
“We’ve not checked the other yet,” demurred Mor’lmes
“Already told you I’m looking to keep your people safe. Since you’ve already listened to more than I’d hoped, here is the first set,” replied Amdirlain. "I’ll call you tomorrow, but make sure you avoid their literature and warded structures. They are building on the Arch-Wizard Naq’ral’s work. I think that’s how you’d pronounce his name now. I only read his texts last night.”
“He’s one of the reformation era wizards that led the campus into its modern format,” protested Mor’lmes. “What rubbish are you trying to claim?”
“The Eldritch gained influence over him during his expeditions. After dedicating years to knowledge, he suddenly started to seek power to consume the scourge. Odd, isn't it? I’d suggest the Eldritch influence sunk hooks into him at that point,” explained Amdirlain. She caught Mor’lmes’ plan to dig into the campus archives and shook her head. “If you look at his later writings, be careful of doodles. Before looking into them, please wear something else to bolster your mental resilience. Their influence leaks into older memories the longer you’re exposed. Read too much, and we'll have to have this conversation again.”
“Are you reading my mind or something?” accused Mor’lmes.
“How could I do that? You’ve spells to protect your mind,” laughed Amdirlain, and she slipped past their gaps again. “Though your spells are more to prevent mental assault or alert you to the use of Detect Thought spells. Hint: tripwires aren’t walls. Use a solid image or thoughts slip through, leaving you with false confidence. His journals, when he started looking into stopping the scourge, as he called it, had one doodle here and there. However, they were a constant in the later ones, even interrupting his writing.”
“What do you do if you see one? Can they be disenchanted?”
“No, and at one level, it’s just scribbling, so you can’t detect any Mana either. Think of it like music, art, or how the voice of an enemy can invoke thoughts and feelings. Consider these like artwork conveying terrible times; they send the mind into dark moods attuning it to unsettling places. So when investigating those writings or the cults' possessions, look away if something draws at your gaze. Pretend every glance can kill you, because it can destroy your sanity. Hopefully, that helps you avoid the dangers they represent.”
“Helps?”
“Nothing is certain, Mor’lmes. I’m just doing what I can for you,” warned Amdirlain, and fishing in his mind for comparison, almost sighed at the apparent loss of knowledge. “Jumping in front of something you know nothing about can get you dead. None of us truly understand the Eldritch; if we could, we'd likely be one of them. Would you advise someone to summon an Elemental before they know how to control it or send it home?”
Sensing she’d started to get towards how much he could accept, Amdirlain rose.
“Absolutely not. That’s far too complex for novices to meddle in,” muttered Mor’lmes begrudgingly.
“I’ll need a list of known associates for the medical staff,” stated Amdirlain. “I didn’t want to-”
Mor’lmes’ thoughts raced off, wondering what she intended to harvest from the friends and family and if they could use it to trap her. Amdirlain frowned.
“I normally ask someone if they want me to teach them affinities, but with you, enjoy the ride,” stated Amdirlain as she seized his mind. A whirlwind of sensation took him through the process of gaining the Life Affinity and spat him out the other end. While he was gasping for breath, Amdirlain wrapped him in song and peeled back his scarf to rip the prosthetic from his throat under the cover of her glamour. She healed his throat, lungs, and knee before he could breathe to scream. Meanwhile, the silver Artificer contraption was nowhere to be seen, and even the booth was pristine.
“What did you do?” gasped Mor’lmes, his trembling hand clutching his throat. “Why did you do that?”
“Because you were considering how to imprison me. I thought I’d show you the upside of what I can offer and clarify that I can break you. I killed the last people that imprisoned me from within the binding of their summoning circle. How would you treat a pride from outside the territories you considered dangerous yet honourable if you needed something from their lands?”
[Diplomacy [J] (29->31)
Note: Sometimes Diplomacy involves explaining how big a stick you possess before the naughty children need a solid whack.]
Mor’lmes swallowed. “I’d ensure we kept the agreements to the letter and not insult them.”
“Then don’t insult me with plots against me. I hear thoughts the way you hear people speaking in a crowd. You’re merely an option to resolve your species’ danger swiftly. Impede that, and I’ll let you tally how many extra individuals suffer your professors' fate, knowing they’re your fault.”
“We have no agreement yet,” declared Mor’lmes.
“I know. Yet I’ve given you gifts, knowledge, expanded your ability with magic, and improved your health. I’d get no strength from their friends, no sustenance, and I’m not a parasite. What I need to do is ensure their friends aren’t infested. The longer they are, the more memories I have to destroy to keep your world safe, and the worse it is for them and their families,” snapped Amdirlain. “Even your healers cut off limbs if there isn’t another choice to save the patient.”
“Destroy their minds,” swallowed Mor’lmes. “I’ve heard reports of some of the former staff.”
“Memories, not minds, and I’d prefer not to, but some had worked with the Eldritch so long, it had touched memories earned decades earlier. It would have been easier and safer to kill them, but I gave them a second chance at life. The longer finding infested takes, the more memories they’ll need to lose to save the rest. I had to purge four decades of memories from some staff,” Amdirlain explained. “I hoped to talk longer, but you need time to digest this information. Enjoy your drink and my gifts. You can also remove the leg brace, though it has some nice defensive and mobility enchantments. Nice fake limp.”
Mor’lmes swallowed again and looked up to meet her gaze. “Why do any of this?"
“Your world is a weak link, the straggler of the herd vulnerable to predators. Saving your world saves other worlds. Since you’ve no gods, I’ll equip a group with the tools to prevent future beachheads. But to be blunt, I’ve other places to be, and while I’ll fix the current issues, I can’t keep coming back forever,” declared Amdirlain flatly. Smiling at him, she gently refastened his scarf, his attempt to avoid her ministration as futile as a toddler in a swing seat trying to avoid his mum. "We'll speak again."
“I’ve no way to contact you,” protested Mor’lmes trembling even after she’d straightened.
“I’ll certainly call tomorrow. I’m going to drop the illusion spells, so put one over yourself to hide your shocked state,” warned Amdirlain. Once his illusion was in place, she dropped her illusions and gave a cheerful wave. “Sorry to bend your ear before you got your order, professor. I’ll pay for it on the way out.”
Comments
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter!
Kemizle
TFTC I enjoyed every word
