AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 129 - This is gonna hurt
🕑 Added 2021-10-28 13:54:35 +0000 UTCAggie smiled as Amdirlain shifted into her favoured Wood Elf form, and reset the concealments the summoning had removed. “At least I don’t have to escort you through Moradin’s Hall with those wings out.”
“Don’t you like the wings?” asked Amdirlain, her playful sulky tone earning a raised eyebrow from Aggie.
“They’re very dramatic, but the black and gold feel ominous,” conceded Aggie. “And they don’t go with your hair. Though I was mostly worried about how much space they’d need among some passages.”
Amdirlain could only shrug. “At least being summoned didn’t force my aura to manifest; when it’s active they’re sheathed in red flames, and my eyes getting freaky. You didn’t set any restrictions on my summoning, any sense of how long the Spell using the Portal, will give me?”
“The destroyed items should be enough to support your form for days, though perhaps give me a Bond in case you need an energy exchange,” replied Aggie after a thoughtful glance at the brazier.
Amdirlain focused on Aggie and felt the crystalline chime as Allegiance Bond linked them. The moment it was established, Ki washed through it and Aggie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I trained in the Monk Class as well, remember.”
“You looked tired,” protested Amdirlain, the exhaustion visibly easing as Aggie’s complexion gained colour. ”That helped, so don’t grumble. I take it the opening gathering here was a success.”
The ecstatic smile that lit Aggie’s face told a tale all its own. “It was indeed. I didn’t expect that many to attend, let alone express interest afterwards.”
“Where did you set up the Temple?” enquired Amdirlain.
“The High Priests from all the Temples agreed to make space available at the Great Forges end of the Chamber of Temples, though we’re the only non-Dwarven Temple present. As soon as I gave them my drawings, the Stones Shapers got busy, but please let me know if I should make any adjustments. I was going to commission them to shape more artworks and Altars for Temples,” Aggie explained.
“I’d like to see it. How about we go there after speaking to Qidnak?” asked Amdirlain, motioning to the chamber’s door.
Beyond was a broad passageway, but it was barely enough to let Amdirlain move freely in her current form. Pictures decorated the Temple’s walls, but few focused on Moradin. Instead, many showed various crafters hard at work the many pictures focused on the crafting process. Blacksmiths were making household items, jewellers setting gems in place, weavers working their looms, every craft Amdirlain expected to see among a medieval society and more besides. Workers in one picture set clockwork pieces in place, linking to a giant water wheel.
The open door gave them a view of a stone desk set against one wall stacked with parchment and large rolled parchments. Against another wall, an angled desktop had a large sheet of parchment stuck in place, and the plan in-progress showed interlocking gears. Qidnak set the quill aside and stood to greet them as they entered the office. Only a metre and a half tall, they radiated a solid calmness and wiped their hands carefully on a cloth hanging from the table’s edge.
[Name: Qidnak Forgehand
Species: Mountain Dwarf
Class: High Crafter / Dedicated Crafter / Engineer / Forge Master
Level: 62 / 62 / 62 / 62
Health: 18,400
Defence: 980
Magic: 264
Mana: 267,624
Melee Attack Power: 244
Combat Skills: Club [S] (12), Warhammer [S] (52), Brawling [M] (23) - Various Blessings
Details: Qidnak, son of Nakpli, is the eighth successive inheritor of the main Foundry line to have achieved the Prestige Class: High Crafter, being the thirtieth in his lineage’s history. Dedicated Crafter is a Priest base class available only to Moradin’s Servants, having already combined the Priest Class into a Prestige Class.
]
“Lady Amdirlain, it’s a pleasure to meet you,”
Amdirlain twitched an eyebrow and smiled at Qidnak as she dug into Analysis.
“The pleasure is mine Qidnak, son of Nakpli High Crafter of Western’s Reaches, son of Pliqid, High Crafter-”
Qidnak blinked and waved his hands in apology to stop Amdirlain’s recital. “Please, I should have said Amdirlain, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Shall we begin again?”
The bemused look Amdirlain gave him earned a sigh from Aggie, but Amdirlain just grinned. “That’s fine, Qidnak. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. My thanks to you and the other High Priests for the welcome you’ve given Aggie and me. She mentioned you had some questions about the fund concept?”
“Nothing that should keep you long then I’d love to show you parts of Stoneheart—after you’ve seen your Temple, of course. The questions were in regards to how you saw the repayment working. There was a term Jantar recalled you using about paying things forward. What did you mean by that?”
* * *
Qidnak and a few guards escorted them to the Temple. Their little parade attracted attention and more members with each Temple entry they passed. Since the main corridor’s cul-de-sac ended at Moradin’s and Berronar’s Halls, they passed every Temple along the way. The entrance’s curved archway had her symbol in the centre of the keystone; the broken chains within it echoed down the sides.
Crossing the threshold, she felt the energy of the dedication it held a faint similarity to her Domain but nowhere near as vital. It felt like walking into a welcoming home. The granite was polished smooth underfoot while the main chamber’s walls, panels of engraved murals showed between the few doors.
The details in the Temple were exquisite and among other scenes in the panels Amdirlain could see herself talking with groups of Humans and morning sessions with Livia. Captured instants from the training looked as if they were dancing in the sunrise. At the chamber’s far end a simple stone block served as an Altar. On it, Aggie had laid out a scroll that Amdirlain knew contained simple tenets, alongside wrapped items that were presented as if they were gifts waiting to be collected. Their presence reminded Amdirlain of Eivor’s small gatherings that ended with them sharing items and food between their households.
Within the dedicated stone, Amdirlain could feel the source of the energy so similar to her Domain. The moment she touched the stone and tried to ease Celestial Mana into the material—like the Wellspring—it drank up what she offered. Mana pulsed within the stone and the scene from her Mind Palace appeared. Rising above the platform’s edge, the Sun’s curve was a dawn that covered the Altar’s front. Before it, a third-dimensional picture of a garden bed overflowing with roses looked so realistic that when Amdirlain stepped away, reflex had her stepping between the roses.
“You’re going to make a Stone Shaper cry,” warned Qidnak. “Beauty presented within stone they’ll be working all manner of shifts trying to match this work.”
Amdirlain smiled and kissed Aggie on the cheek. “The Altar’s change wasn’t intended to imply any lack, I just tried to add extra energy to it. It’s a beautiful place for a gathering, even if I’d prefer fewer panels with my face on them.”
“You do look a lot more normal than I had expected, Amdirlain,” remarked Qidnak. “I’d heard tales from those you healed after the battle.”
“I learnt how to keep my presence under control. I prefer to let people think clearly,” Amdirlain responded and waved off another High Priest’s enquiring look. “I have an energy about me that’s only gotten stronger, and I’ve no desire to risk influencing anyone’s mind.”
“You have the skinny, long-legged look of an Elf about you. Have you considered growing a beard? That would certainly improve your appearance,” suggested Qidnak and smirked while Amdirlain laughed.
* * *
Amdirlain looked at the galleries running along the seamline’s edge extending far out of her eyesight’s reach. “Do you mind if I ask how many Dwarves call Stoneheart home?”
“Not at all. The greater region holds a tad over eight million, but that’s just the Mountain Dwarves,” Qidnak quickly responded and continued his explanation. “The Hill Dwarves prefer being closer to the surface than the residential areas allow. They’ve got a few hundred thousand in the immediate area alone, but they have their own Clan rulers, so I’d not upset them by claiming they’re part of Stoneheart. Many Hill Dwarf clans hold the western slopes to keep Manes from gaining access to the mines.”
“I’ve heard tales of them, and they sound the same as Gnolls. Is it just a different name?” Aggie asked curiously.
“They are hyena-headed bipeds, similar to a Gnoll but far more dangerous, plus Gnolls stop growing at about two metres. Manes are like the Gnarls where the stronger among them continued to grow despite it being impossible for their Cackle to have enough food to support them.”
I wonder if the Gnarls’ creators used Manes as part of their experimenting? I’ve still not spoken to anyone about that.
Amdirlain held her tongue and moved on with their plans for the day. “Who is the best person to organise a large group of Wizards so I can help with gaining Affinities?”
“Best to go straight to Guildmaster Nalfar of the Wizard’s Guild. She can be officious even with me,” cautioned Qidnak.
Aggie spoke up quickly, interjecting before Amdirlain could reply. “I’ll go talk to her. We wouldn’t want rats to sidetrack things.”
Qidnak blinked in confusion. “Rats?”
The sigh Amdirlain gave earned a chuckle from Aggie, but she quickly explained it to Qidnak. “Amdirlain doesn’t do well with those only interested in rules, with no care for individuals. The Jarl’s Steward got told he needed to drag the rat out that had crawled up his arse and eaten his heart.”
“I didn’t use those words,” corrected Amdirlain.
“Please don’t upset Master Nalfar too much,” cautioned Qidnak. “She keeps things running smoothly and ensures the Wizards don’t lack the skills we need. When anything involves the Wizard’s Guild, she likes things done her way. She has higher standards than the previous Guildmaster and ensures the members have the training to meet them.”
“I’ll leave that to your skill in diplomacy since I know mine tends towards a boot in the arse. I’ll need time to review those sketches. If organising the gathering takes too long, I’ll head off immediately afterwards,” cautioned Amdirlain before addressing Qidnak. “Thanks again for such a kind reception High Crafter Qidnak. The last few days since the Temple’s dedicated have contained a number of pleasant surprises. Could I impose on you for someone to guide me to Clan Gildenshield?”
* * *
Amdirlain waited patiently while the Wizards gathered in the auditorium, using the time to seek a connection between Psi energy and Harmony. Fleeting hints of success evaporated as Master Nalfar spoke to Aggie. “These are all the Masters suitable to assist.”
Sitting seiza-style on the dais, Amdirlain had calmly ignored the Wizards’ attention. Their minds intensely curious, still they assembled quietly as Nalfar had directed. Individually stronger, the minds of eighty Master Wizards were still far easier to deal with than Ûbuthan’s seething wildlife. Their minds were orderly like Nalfar’s, though some reminded her unfavourably of Eysteinn, and she stretched to brush over others within the Guild’s Halls. Picking through those she liked regardless of rank: Apprentices, Journeymen, teaching Masters—that didn’t meet Nalfar’s criteria—and even some general staff.
Telepathy wove a net between them, and she gave a mental warning to those outside the room before Harmony connected everyone to a zephyr she created. None had possessed an Affinity for Air, but that soon changed. Their understanding bloomed and then clicked into place. Aggie from outside the linkage, watched the shocked looks developing, well aware of how Amdirlain could upset firm beliefs.
Once they’d all connected to the Mana, Amdirlain dismissed the whirlwind, and condensed water from the air. Droplets streamed towards her, and Harmony let them experience the differing energy as understanding previously foreign to them clicked into place. Even though the Wizards knew Earth, and many knew Fire, she continued through them. Harmony deepening their understanding of the Affinities they’d already established.
She progressed rapidly after the first tier alternating new affinities with casting spells from lists designed for one Mana with another Affinity. The lesson continued through the second and third Affinities, but the last two Tiers she only selectively covered: Celestial, Positive, Time, Mental, and Order.
“You’ve given us much to think about. We’ll review this and see about teaching the others,” Guildmaster Nalfar stated as Amdirlain came down from the dais.
“I gave the same lesson to some others in your guildhall today,” advised Amdirlain.
Nalfar’s jaw dropped before she hurriedly sputtered. “That wasn’t what we agreed.”
Amdirlain smiled sharply and laid her cards out. “You didn’t ask for my agreement, Nalfar. You told Aggie you’d gather suitable Wizards I hope the self-centred among your picks turn a new leaf. Some individuals I added because I found them more suitable than the self-centred among your choices. I picked additional minds I felt comfortable teaching. To be clear, that includes some staff that weren’t previously Wizards. There are many with a genuine love for magic—not just power—working for you Guildmaster, so I gave them a chance to follow their dreams.”
“How will they cover the apprenticeship fee if they couldn’t afford help to gain an Affinity?” asked Nalfar, blinking rapidly at the stream of words.
“Speak with the High Priests of Thautam. There is a fund being established.” Amdirlain replied and stopped when she heard where Nalfar’s mind had immediately gone. “I’m sorry for adding to your workload with training, but I’d suggest you look beyond those who follow your rules without problems. They’re not all the sure allies that you believe, and some that try your patience have great respect for your standards. May Thautam aid your endeavours, Guildmaster.”
Though Nalfar was officious—as Qidnak had warned—concern about training everyone without injuries did her credit in Amdirlain’s book.
* * *
The small Shrine on the village’s edge was less than a day’s ride inside the Kingdom of Crete’s western border. Merry singing coming from a wine house down the road sat sour with Amdirlain. The slave girls pouring the drinks considered mere furnishings that could talk, endeavouring to hide their misery to avoid further beatings. The red roof tiles radiated heat from the faded spring day. Their dark hues more suitable at least than the pure white stone used in Set’s Temple. Its Egyptian carvings and traditional hieroglyphs a strange sight among the timber and clay of Grecian buildings.
Within the Shrine’s cellar, the fearful minds of slaves presented a stark contrast to the relaxed state of the Priests and a housekeeper enjoying an evening meal. Dipping into their memories, she sought knowledge on the slavers and witnessing the activities they’d taken part in quickly set aside intentions to spare lay staff. Within the Priest’s mind, she found his connection to the district’s slave route both into and below Egypt. The caravan masters who’d profited from their flesh trade she added to her debtors’ list.
There were no wards, and the Shrine’s dedication proved no barrier; she simply entered via the front door. Ignoring the Temple’s decorations, she headed directly towards the refectory. Teleport placed her beside the Priests, and a brush of tentacles let Energy Drain rip Health and Souls from the three. Taking what coinage they had about them, she headed down the narrow stairs into the basement. The smell and misery hit her even before she opened the door.
A score of females—some as young as ten—were chained naked to the stone walls. Only filthy straw mats beneath them kept the stone from stealing all their warmth. The chains’ length didn’t allow their arms to rest, manacles’ edges dug into wrists held in a position that barely allowed their elbows to bend when they sat. None were in a fit state, but two Basteti among them had suffered vicious abuse. Beaten bloody, muzzled with a spiked bit digging inside their mouths, and tight rusty bindings contorted their fingers and capped their claws. The sickening abuse only worsened by some sadist having severed their tails and ears so that only stubs remained.
Amdirlain set a wall of life energy across them and hurried to remove the chains. “Hold on, I’m taking you to safety.”
Their disbelieving, apathetic expressions disappeared when they arrived in the compound of the Daughters of Hope and those nearby rushed to their aid. A young girl blinded in one eye was the first to cry. Ignoring their filthy condition, the ladies didn’t hesitate to comfort them while tending their wounds.
“Amdirlain, should we get platoons ready?” asked a rank leader who’d been the first to call for Healers.
“I’m not planning to fight them,” Amdirlain replied, the simple words hard enough to etch steel.
“What do you plan to do?”
“Kill them all and raze their places. I need to be going; it’s time to extract payment for past evils,” replied Amdirlain and held out a list. “These are caravan masters that have dealings with Set’s Temples. From what I got from a Priest’s mind, the ones underlined are still dealing with Gnarls. Please arrange word to be spread, have them found. We need them alive to learn about the delivery locations and trace from there.”
Amdirlain handed over the looted coins and teleported back to the Shrine. Inventory absorbed the ceiling, then interior; taking the valuables, she at first left an outer shell, and stone chips dropped to fill the exposed basement. It took only minutes to turn the fancy stonework into a sunken gravel pit, outer walls and all. Before the first villager had noticed, Amdirlain had already dealt with multiple targets days on foot away.
Dusk progressed westwards, and the death of a Priesthood followed in its wake.
Panic when it came was too little, too late. The last real High Priest, woken by a nightmare, and hurrying through the summoning ritual as fast as he could, choked in the middle of his chant, and the summoning failed. Tentacles burst outwards from his still standing corpse, white flame wreathed their decapitating strikes. The assistants, focused on channelling Mana for his use, didn’t even realise they were dead before Amdirlain claimed their Souls. Nearby, the brazier’s flame burst through the ceiling, the hours of sacrificed magical materials vomited unchannelled power skywards.
Amdirlain looked over the Greater Portal set into the floor, shucking herself free of the High Priest’s remains. Rather than free-standing as the one in Moradin’s Hall, this Portal was set up always to bind whatever it called forth. A tentacle flicked across the circle’s edge, and the kilograms of Adamantine vanished from the stone. The Temple’s destruction began after the prisoners she’d found were teleported far away. Among them, a pair of small boys rescued from the High Priest’s quarters sat next to a one-eyed girl as she sang them to sleep with words they didn’t know. Dreams, when they came, were of golden hands healing their wounds instead of the cold-eyed man inflicting pain.
Dawn revealed Set’s Grand Temple in Thebes was a gravel pit with hundreds that had been within presumed to be dead. Magical messages of one type or another sped around the kingdoms, tallying the destruction. In the North, the employees of Clan Gildenshield began a second shift, examining the materials brought in overnight by a rather unusual client.
Within the ruins of an underground complex, a notification bloomed in Amdirlain’s awareness as she collected the last valuables from its vaults.
[Achievement: Game, Set, Match!
Condition: Plan and complete an extensive Shadow War strike successfully against a more powerful entity
Reward:
- Experience: 5,000,000
Additional Condition: Success caused foe to be weakened by a full Divine rank.
Reward:
- Faith Boost +20
- Experience: 20,000,000
Additional Condition: Success caused foe to be weakened by two full Divine ranks.
Reward:
- Faith Boost +50
- Experience: 60,000,000
Additional Condition: Success dramatically weakened foe, allowing another the opportunity to administer a coup-de-gras.
Reward:
- Incompatible Portfolios prevents any consumption of Divine energies. Determine entity to consume power from one of the destroyed entity’s portfolios.
- Note: Limited time available for decision.
- Portfolio List: Ambition, betrayal, the desert, destruction, drought, evil magic, hate, murder, night, poison, rape, rot, snakes, storms.
- Faith Boost +70
- Experience: 100,000,000
]
Dropping the valuables off to Clan Gildenshield’s sorting room, Planar Shift took her to Judgment, again it wasn’t the white clouds and sunshine she’d expected. Around her were many races: Elven, Human, Orc, Kobolds, Goblins, Lizard-folk, plus dozens more she didn’t immediately recognise. They all stood with the same vacant expression she’d seen among Cemna’s Souls.
Releasing the thousands of Souls she’d collected from Set’s Faithful, she watched them stream away and manifest. The complexions of the closest immediately tinged grey. Now that she knew what to look for, Soul Sight showed her their life experiences’ energy, bleeding out into the Plane.
“You still have one more, Amdirlain.”
Amdirlain looked at the Titan’s Servant and held out Setau’s Soul Gem, which immediately vanished from her palm. “What is this place?”
“It’s a region for those who chose not to change Faiths after their God died. The energy drains from them, and eventually, the raw Soul returns to the cycle,” the Servant replied casually.
Amdirlain nodded and asked, “What happens with those Petitioners already on his former Planes?”
“Control over them will go to whoever consumes his Portfolio’s energy, according to the aspect that attracted their Faith.”
“I don’t want to be part of giving his Power to anyone,” admitted Amdirlain.
“If you make no decision, someone in time will seize it once worship of a God, Demon Lord, or Devil with a suitable Portfolio spreads into the lands where he once had sway.”
Amdirlain contemplated the situation a while; the Titan’s Servant vanished and left a small box.
“Mab.”
The name had barely left her lips when a woman cast from midnight appeared among the greyness. Black rime frost stretched across the clouds among the fading Souls. “Amdirlain, such a lovely place to evoke my name. Are you looking to make a Pact with me? Or did you want to talk about old times?”
“I’ll provide Set’s Night Portfolio to you for a complete answer to one question,” offered Amdirlain without hesitation.
Within the darkness that gripped the air around her, Amdirlain could barely make out her head tilt. “Interesting, though I’d need to hear the question first; some secrets are worth far more than his scraps. You know that it will make Mortals inclined to appease or revere Night to shift their worship to me, don’t you?”
“They’d worship someone; I’d rather them attracted to your cruel necessity than any Demon Lord I know.”
Mab’s laughter sent the frost worming its way between the Souls. “Let me hear your question, Amdirlain.”
“Why did you forge a Pact with Epochē and Viper?” Amdirlain asked, more interested in Mab’s reason than either of them.
“Titania wagered an extra month of winter on two worlds that I couldn’t get Epochē’s plan to come undone. Why she did so I wasn’t told by her. I always did like you Amdirlain; you firmly believed in doing exactly what was needed,” Mab replied. “The Sun shines in most places, even in winter’s depths, it’s just behind the clouds.”
Amdirlain made her selection, and Mab’s lips curved into an edged smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had Humans worshipping me. Until we meet again.” The words had barely left Mab’s lips when she vanished, and the rime melted.
* * *
Abyssal Plane ßvåge
Within the throne room, BrÍn formerly sworn to the Set’s service bowed to their new master. The lightning wrapped BrÍn passed before them; their former master’s heart clutched firmly in his fist. Under the Black Sun of the Plane, the crimson of his lightning aura cast eerie shadows across their gaze. The Legion’s commander locked gazes with his former commander a moment before his skull shattered, and the war mattock teleported back to its owner’s grasp.
“Get rid of this offal,” ordered Raivo. “I can’t stand someone who’d sell their sworn ruler out. Find whoever has the keys to the vaults. I don’t want to spend eternity here.”
* * *
Ebusuku’s PoV - The Maze
Choices that I hadn’t noticed became apparent with every bitter journey through memory. Each time a picture disappeared, the corridor’s grey stone walls displayed paintings of doors—some large, others small. The largest would have given the greatest freedoms, but those had grown rare. Every step taunting me with options I’d ignored or never noticed, dropped by the wayside, I had stayed a Demon. Their potential outcomes made known now and my regret twisted in my guts along with the other pains.
The corridor’s end had slowly come into sight as the pain climbed higher. Bruises from every collapse tight and sore, glowing red blotches across my entire front held in grey clammy flesh, scoured through by ink-black veins. Every twitch makes the corridor swim with pain as the final square within the bright mosaic border holds my gaze.
Beyond that square stands a marble step before a solid wall with a hole at chest height. The opening ringed with erratically sized teeth, all shining in the corridor’s light. The hole is large enough to reach deep inside, but the dark consumes the light, leaving it a dangerous mystery.
I sit and watch Sage use the tools to pull the tiles aside, the trembling in my limbs spiking the pain higher still. The gears and levers once again the same, yet the square isn’t a picture. The last mouth full of water revolts in my stomach, and I lurch forward to vomit into the gap Sage had made. His quick hands were the only thing that kept me from face planting onto the exposed mechanism. Would I have even known I died?
Sage sighs with relief as I finally swing myself clear and lay backwards across my feet. “One last hop, time to get up. Do you want some water to rinse your mouth?”
“Give me a moment.”
I’m so tired I can barely hear myself speak, but Sage’s gaze grows determined. “No, sit up now or you won’t get up. Your weight is squeezing your bad leg, and you’re not screaming.”
His hands pull at my harnesses and turn me on my side. It should bring relief, but an inferno of pain eats at my bones as my weight shifts. The blank stone beneath me had shown a memory that occurred well before meeting Farhad. I’d hoped for memories of my time with him. Sage isn’t gentle when forcing me to my feet, but the pain spiking clears my mind. A hop takes me to the black stone, and no memory grabs me. Danger screams about me, and I stagger, too late in trying to wave Sage back. I watch the black flames erupt behind him—circling us—filling the mosaic border and sealing us in.
Options press into my mind. Abyssal Heat roars its way through Mortal flesh, and I regain my Succubus strength. The sickness eating its way through me gushes out my pores, and pools of greenish-yellow pus glisten on the ground. My skin thrums as Danger Sense continues its song. The raw Abyssal energy of the black flames promises destruction. I can use the child to snuff out the flames, and then claim power for myself to either return to the Abyss or Hell. I don’t even have to do it myself. His death by starvation means the fire will consume his Soul.
Sage moves so slowly relative to me now, his gaze only widening as it settles on my bat-like wings. I know the flames won’t die until someone snuffs them out at the cost of their existence. It’s information that I see clearly in both our minds. There is nothing the child can do as vitality and speed fill me again. So I act, and chose an option not given. It’s something I noticed from my memories, and now I don’t focus on gaining for myself.
In the instant I touch the flames, my flesh’s restored Heat reacts with them, and I ignite. The injuries and agonies I’d endured during my half million years nothing, even the Abyss’ inferno while ascending became a carefree memory. Time crawls as an eternity of pain sears through me, the concentrated Abyssal energies mocking my origins. Agony and fury burn through my flesh and flee with the Abyssal Heat through the dark tube in the wall ahead. Power floods into me as it departs, leaving me gasping in shock, my old existence forfeit and consumed. The air glows with a silvery light and paints the walls around us for an instant before the platform descends. The moment it shifts downwards, a smile flickers to life on Sage’s face, and he vanishes.
Despite my still ebony skin, the energy now within radiates the aura that washes the walls with silver. Bat-like wings went with the Abyssal Heat, but the six feathered wings growing from my back flex as winds brush past them. Power surges through me, and I felt a connection close by—the echo of my promise to serve Amdirlain. The strength of its power was shallow compared to what ran through my form. Knowledge that I could reject it and choose my path for eternity beckoned.
The memory of the way she spoke drags at me, not orders, not demands, help I can choose to give. If nothing else, more advice she’d trust being welcome. What a gentle expectation? After eons as a Succubus, she’s promoted me to a Solar—a being stronger than many Demon Lords—yet bound by no followers. Choices tempt me, waving options before me. Instead of serving, I could easily go my own way or grasp a Divine Portfolio for myself.
The open acceptance she had provided echoes through my consideration—as long as I remain true to her trust. She had offered with no restrictions—other than trust—letting me choose freely when so many had forced my options or hidden them from me.
I grab the connection, and the surrounding walls disappear. Standing on a valley’s edge, I feel her Domain stretching out before me, a sensation of trust even more complete than Farhad’s acceptance of me. A host of Archons were suddenly nearby standing on the ridgeline, then another Angel—an Astral Deva—whose face I’ve seen up close. His adult visage is far different to when I’d seen him last, but Sage is still recognisable.
[Access ‘Profile’ for attribute point allocation and Class selection.
Calculating Initial equipment for Celestial Species.
Species Powers and Skill upgrades assigned.
Resistance: Acid upgraded to Immune, Cold upgraded to Immune, Earth upgraded to Immune
Fire Immunity and all other resistances kept at current levels.
Powers: Discern Lies upgraded to Zone of Truth.
Celestial Powers: Angelic Aura, Soul Sense, True Seeing, Charm Monster, Commune, Dimensional Anchor, Greater Dispel, Heal, Holy Smite, Invisibility (Self), Imprisonment, Rebuke, Remove Curse, Remove Disease, Remove Fear, Restoration, Resurrection, Resist Energy, Speak with Dead, Waves of Fatigue
Skills: Perception [G](212->242)
Blessing Path access: [Tier 4]
- Bone Law
- Channels
- Communal Ways
- Holy Arms
- Inspiring Ways
- Life Mastery
- Muscle Law
- Nerve Law
- Organ Law
- Protections
- Repulsions
- Spell Defence
- Summons
In service to Power: Amdirlain. Status: Willingly accepted.
Power’s primary focus:
- Class: Monk
- Attribute: Willpower
Additional Powers: Charm Monster converted to Dismissal, Harmony, Soul Sense evolved to Soul Sight, Vampiric Grasp evolved to Energy Drain (Ranged).
Additional Skills: Analysis, Profile Control, Unarmed Combat evolved to Silent Storm
Additional Blessing Path access:
- Smiting Ways
- Exorcism
Equipment:
Recurve Bow of Slaying - Ranged Attack Power: +700.
Radiant Sabres of Dawn- Melee Attack Power: +600.
Celestial Plate Armour - Defence: +900.
Celestial Clothing - Attributes: Self-repairing, automatic size change, and Resistance sharing.
Additional Class unlocks:
Monk
Dominator
]
I knew Solars were powerful, so the only actual surprise was the inclusion of Smiting Ways. I’d not heard of a Celestial Power providing their followers dark Blessings that allowed for opening wounds, breaking limbs, ripping ligaments and rupturing specific organs all at a distance.
Profile?
Another page written in Celestial hovers within my mind. Similar to the imprints I’ve seen in the past, but I’m unsure what the experience section means.
Comments
Håvard
If you look up DnD forgotten relmes angels there is an list on there. From weakest to most powerful, the celestial stewards were:[6][7][8] Light aasimon, Movanic devas, Monadic devas, Astral devas, Planetars, and Solars.
Eyes wide
Now we're cooking . Thanks for the chapter . I'm not well versed in these angelic levels and tiers is thier a teir list somewhere I can use to get an idea of how powerful all these new angles are .
Glenn Wright
His Faith only existed on one world - so when the last Priest died - game over. He still had the reserve energy of Petitioners but was badly injured and got put down.
Xtriver
Weeeeeee! Me like! One question; I am not mistaken that Set died from the destruction of his priesthood’s dissolution in a region on one world?
