AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 116 - Call me by your name
🕑 Added 2021-09-15 12:30:28 +0000 UTCSírdhem quickly returned with an Empowered Dusk Emerald, and her gaze went distant for a moment before she considered Amdirlain seriously.
“Would you tell me how you did this?” Sírdhem asked politely as Amdirlain sat down on the ledge, she knelt facing her. “We’d already tried to acquire new use names. Other Demons can do so, but we couldn’t change the ones she gave us.”
“It involves a Skill I have,” Amdirlain replied, not sure what Sírdhem would make of the answer. “It was Profile Control, but it evolved into Profile Mastery.”
“I’ve never heard of it. What else does it allow you to do?” enquired Sírdhem curiously.
“It’s new to me as well,” cautioned Amdirlain. “It lets me change use names, presentation of imprints, and purge classes.”
“Purge classes,” Sírdhem repeated, her gaze turning thoughtful as she considered Amdirlain intently.
“Yeah, not sure how useful that is,” Amdirlain answered, her nose wrinkled at the thought of losing a billion odd experience. “It removes all the experience progress for the Class as well.”
“Can you remove Blood Monk for me?” asked Sírdhem excitedly.
“What?!” exclaimed a wide-eyed Amdirlain.
“No, not just Blood Monk, I want them all gone!” exclaimed Sírdhem, her raised voice drawing the notice of the other Succubi.
“You’d make yourself vulnerable if you did that,” Amdirlain said, her stomach twisting at the thought.
“We already are,” Sírdhem retorted. “She chose everything we took. It left us crippled compared to many members of the Sisterhood. While we hurt them because of the advantage of surprise and the extent of our Skills. Now, we’re just limited to hiding here where they can’t see, nor venture.”
“I’ve been trying to gather the courage to go further towards the city. I’m sure the Song would destroy me before I made the wall, but I’d see oblivion at last,” said another Succubus. She possessed the same inky-black feathered-wings as Sírdhem, but her hair was stark white in contrast to Sírdhem’s bluish-black. Both of them possessed fine Elven features though ivory white as many Succubi she’d seen.
“That’s not something I’d count on occurring,” Amdirlain stated. “Your Soul is still inside your body.”
“To be reborn sounds good, but I’d hate to inflict my memories on a new incarnation,” Sírdhem said, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “I could take them a message for you if they’d listen before I got lost in the Song.”
“All the living Lómë are within the Abyss. There isn’t anywhere else to be reborn,” warned Amdirlain.
Sírdhem snorted and shook her head, “I doubt they’re having children trapped here.”
“That would explain all the Souls helping Sing to the crystals I’ve seen,” Amdirlain.
“You can see—really see—Souls?” enquired Sírdhem hopefully, leaning towards Amdirlain.
“Yes,” Amdirlain confirmed, gesturing to the city. “At least in the Burning Grotto and the spires in the city here.”
“Your words don’t sour the Song here. I thought it was just the distance between us and my neglected sense,” Sírdhem said, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Tell me a lie.”
“I’m just a normal Succubus,” declared Amdirlain, and Sírdhem burst out laughing, though whatever amused her Amdirlain didn’t hear. The pure notes of Sírdhem’s laughter range through the Song and attracted more attention to them.
“Oh, goodness,” Sírdhem said, clapping happily. “Please, won’t you tell me who you used to be?”
“I’m told I used to be a Sun Elf, but I’ve no memory of it,” offered Amdirlain.
“By the Titan’s hammer,” Sírdhem breathed. “Please wipe away the classes she forced me to take.”
“Could you rename me to Fainil?” the other asked. “I’ll help her gain the classes she actually wants.”
Amdirlain concentrated for a moment, and Fainil blinked in surprise while motioning Sírdhem to hand her the emerald; after checking her imprint, Fainil gave them a broad smile. Her thoughts were so loud and happy Amdirlain didn’t even have to listen for them.
“Free at last,” Fainil breathed and kicked her feet happily. “After I get Sírdhem a Prestige Class she wants, would you wipe my classes as well? Getting enough experience for her to be level seventy-.”
Amdirlain considered the pair of them sitting in the beautiful Song she could hear about them; when she moved to hold up a hand Fainil halted mid-sentence.
“A tier five Prestige isn’t the highest, though gaining access to higher isn’t an automatic thing,” cautioned Amdirlain. “Before I tell you what I know, what do you want to do now?”
“Destroy the Sisterhood, of course,” Fainil stated, and Sírdhem nodded in agreement.
“It might make up for the orders she gave me, though I’ll never be rid of the memories,” admitted Sírdhem.
“Does everyone here feel this way?” asked Amdirlain, nodding to the others, though few were even listening to their conversation.
“Those that don’t, didn’t leave,” said Sírdhem, motioning off into the distance. “We’re a minority of those that swore an oath to her.”
“Why do you appear as a Grove Tender?” Fainil asked in High Elven and glanced at Sírdhem when Amdirlain looked surprised. “Or is my recollection bad?”
“No, she does, but they took a different name after the fall,” Sírdhem replied. “It’s not important. Will you share your information with us?”
“I want to check on everyone’s intentions first, then I’ll share the information, and we can plan,” Amdirlain declared, rising to her feet.
“As long as we complete the planning within a few years,” granted Fainil. “I want to get started.”
“No, if you don’t have a plan within a day, I’m leaving you to it,” advised Amdirlain, enjoying Fainil amused look.
“Purge my classes then if you would,” Sírdhem said. “I already know what I intend.”
“I don’t know the effect of doing that here,” cautioned Amdirlain. “The Song could destroy your form.”
“Do it,” urged Sírdhem. “If it destroys this form and my Soul is freed, what should I try to tell them?”
Amdirlain’s gaze weighed on Sírdhem as she considered her words.
“The living should leave. The Titan said he can’t help if they don’t trust him and ask for it. Tell them the Royal Tower is where the Royal family is in stasis, and they can’t unseal it without a Sun Elf Glinnel. There are Souls waiting outside the Abyss to be reborn,” Amdirlain said. “I can carry Souls to Judgement, and the Titan’s Servants will take them to safety from there. If this doesn’t destroy you, hold off taking any Class until you have my information.”
“Fine, now just do it,” insisted Sírdhem. “Please get rid of all my classes.”
Amdirlain focused on Sírdhem and tried the simplest approach first. When she wanted Sírdhem’s classes purged, the Succubus gasped in pain and clamped her arms around her body, going wide-eyed in shock. As spell forms around her dissolved in True Sight, items that had looked merely decorative suddenly glowed with enchantments, and a set of bracers shimmered into sight.
[Profile Mastery [M] (7->11)]
Analysis
[Name: Sírdhem
Species: Greater Succubus
Class: <None>
Level: 23 (MAX)
Health: 864
Defence: 928
Magic: 52
Mana: 460
Melee Attack Power: 61
Combat Skills: Bite [G] (6), Bow-Legend [S] (279), Claws [G] (10), Sword-Saint [G] (418), Tail Strike [S] (5), Throwing [S] (3). Spell Lists: <Locked>. Affinities: <None>
Details: Sírdhem is a native to the Plane Ijmti. A former follower of Lady Balnérith, she is considered a rogue to be destroyed on sight by the Sisterhood of Blood. ]
At her gasp, others that had ignored their conversation flowed to their feet, their attention fixed on Sírdhem.
“Ow, that hurt,” Sírdhem said, waving the others away with gestures that appeared awkward compared to her previous grace. “I feel so strange. Fainil, give me the emerald, will you?”
Sírdhem took only a moment to check her imprint, and she grinned with delight and knelt before Amdirlain.
“Lady, I swear to your service as long as your actions remain to the benefit of the Song,” declared Sírdhem.
“No, Sírdhem,” Amdirlain said, shaking her head at the confused Succubus as she continued. “Your choices are always your own; you’ve no need to serve anyone.”
“Then I choose to serve you,” countered Sírdhem, and rose to her feet
Amdirlain sighed and gave her a look of exasperation before gesturing to the others.
“Shall we gather the others and give them information so they can make their own choices?”
Sírdhem nodded to Fainil, and they headed in opposite directions along the ledge to herd in the other Succubi.
* * *
Fifty-seven Succubi sitting on a ledge.
Amdirlain forced her brain away from the green bottles song as she looked at the nine trios discussing their plans. The insight she’d provided to them had formed their intentions, and after discussion, a majority of the Succubi had opted to clear their classes. Though their levels had been high, Balnérith had crippled them with tier two and three prestige classes. Analysis had shown her similar skill levels to Sírdhem, among those who’d opted to clear their classes immediately. Sírdhem’s selections had been interesting and taught her a few things, including that none of them had access to Glinnel, either.
[Hyanda:
Fighters who have dedicated themselves to the mastery of swords. Acquisition of this base class is only possible for individuals who have evolved their Skill to either Sword-Saint or Sword-Legend. ]
Guess that makes sense since the word is Blade in High Elven.
[Primordial Scout:
An elite scout base class it is only available to individuals with extensive planar experience and Grand-Master rank or higher in various infiltration skills. ]
[Harbinger:
A planar Class available to entities who have sworn service to a stronger entity; provides attribute increases and Skill insights matching to the entity’s primary attribute and Skill set.]
Wizard re-appeared in their profiles as she had helped those who’d purged classes regain an Affinity. Their ability to gain them all wasn’t surprising.
Maybe she can destroy Lady Balnérith instead of me. Who knows what her Prestige Class will look like with her first two base classes, let alone Wizard and Harbinger?
The random thought crossed her mind even as Sírdhem approached. She and the other were no longer wearing the Sisterhood armour, rather mercenary kit shaped with the appearance of Swamp Basilisk hide. A black and grey crest on their chest showed what looked like bars with pieces of broken chains looped across them. Amdirlain wasn’t sure if the others realised it was a musical notation.
“Are you sure you wish to travel alone, Lady Amdirlain?” Sírdhem asked.
The other Succubus using her name had her locking down another shiver, but considering she knew — and had bestowed — all their new names, Amdirlain had felt wrong not sharing it.
“Are you sure you want to handle pruning trainees?” countered Amdirlain, giving her a frown.
“Between the three of us, we know most use names in the order,” said Sírdhem grimly. “Even without Class levels, our state and equipment give us an edge handling lots of things in Ternòx. If we run into too much trouble our chaperones will step in when needed. So we’ll take care of exploration here and message you when we find the Royal Tower. Once we get enough levels, we’ll get started on the Sisterhood’s little bitches. We trained many of them but hadn’t considered taking that approach; a few Demons less just didn’t seem important.”
“You’re taking my list away from me,” protested Amdirlain.
“Really? The discordant notes your words raise here aren’t you lying to me?” Sírdhem asked, giving her a smug look.
“Fine, you’re taking some of my list from me,” Amdirlain grumbled.
“Delegation is important to learn,” insisted Sírdhem and waved her protest away dismissively. “You’d best be careful if you go after Naz’rilca. Just because her home plane isn’t Ijmti, don’t go thinking she’s a pushover; she’s an unpredictable bitch, with a citywide nasty streak.”
“Don’t laugh too much at my circle,” requested Amdirlain, trying to distract Sírdhem.
“You showed us an image. I will say. It’s carefully structured for someone with so limited experience,” reassured Sírdhem. “We’ll put additional protections around the walls when we look to continue. It must have been a busy cycle of work completing it.”
Cycle?
“It took longer than that just in carving, and I spent far more time re-checking everything than carving,” admitted Amdirlain.
“It’s the way it should be, though marking out and checking gets faster with experience,” said Sírdhem and gave her a wave before moving over to Fainil.
When they disappeared, so did a few trios, and Amdirlain missed spotting their third. Their sharing of information hadn’t been one-sided, and they’d interrupted her bare-bones story with advice during the exchange.
I don’t need more Alchemical Silver now but need to stockpile resources; as long as I can purify the Abyssal materials, my plan will still work.
Ijmti, I’ll get to you yet. I need to avoid ending up as a puddle of gore.
Setting a few crates on the ledge, she separated out a selection of materials to keep their source concealed.
* * *
Qcppxtýpcd’s streets were busy when Amdirlain got through the gate she’d exited last time. The guards made no fuss, and she didn’t even attract notice by following a group of miners escorting a mob of Dretch ladened with heavy packs. She’d just stepped onto the ramp leading to the fourth tier when the blood rained down on her. A ballista bolt’s wet thunk came just a moment before an unneeded glance cost her a face full of blood and viscera. Eyes concealed along her wings had caught the cause, yet it seemed extreme for a traffic violation. Whatever reason the Vrock had for flying higher than the mass of others, it seemed costly.
“Could I lick that off you?”
The hopeful question from a Hymadon earned it a flat look before Amdirlain sprayed it with the mess that had covered her. For a moment, the hyena-faced Demon looked annoyed, before he shrugged and casually walked off. With each step, he ran a hand over exposed fur and licked the blood away. A projected thought she’d caught from him made sense of the behaviour, her mercenary leathers with no obvious weapon equalled trouble to him.
Lorrella had redecorated since Amdirlain had last seen the store, or she had argued with some customers. Entrails stretched along the display window’s frame, and spikes poked through the top of severed heads stacked near the door. Skipping a dried puddle, Amdirlain slipped in the front door to claim a spot in the queue. Bottles, books, runes, pouches, and occasionally body parts crossed the counter in a steady stream with no one haggling against Lorrella’s named price.
“Duckie!” Lorrella squealed in delight when she spotted Amdirlain among the customers. “Be right with you.”
Her Power’s translation confused Amdirlain, but she recovered her composure by the time she reached the counter. Lorrella gave her an alien smile, and despite her strength, it was a worrying expression since she was in the part-Fey’s lair
“What ya need, sweet cheeks?” Lorrella purred, with a welcoming smile.
“I’ve gained materials,” stated Amdirlain. “I was wondering if you wanted to trade for Artificer quality gemstones.”
“OH! Show me, show me, show me!”
Lorrella clapped in time to her demand and the Demons who had followed Amdirlain in found themselves pushed outside. As soon as the door closed and latched, the table appeared between the counters.
Amdirlain set down ten bars of Alchemical Silver and few pouches of reagents.
“More reagents. I’m hurt,” Lorrella sulked. “Have you been showing a hag or coin fondler an enjoyable time? Wait, didn’t you need thirty-five bars?”
“I found an Alchemist in Àluga with a stockpile. To get more of their bars, there is a list of materials they’ll trade for, but I don’t know how to gather them,” replied Amdirlain, waving her list.
“Really, you know what another Alchemist is playing with, oh give me,” Lorrella said excitedly, as she made childish grabbing gestures towards the parchment.
“This stuff first though,” Amdirlain reminded her as she motioned to the table.
“Artificer quality gemstones. I don’t have enough stock to cover the reagents, so I’ll just take the bars from you,” Lorrella pouted, and five jewellery boxes came floating in from her back room. “Assorted sizing but nothing bigger than a thumbnail.”
Amdirlain tucked the pouches and gemstones away and the bars vanished.
“Now, can I see the list of goodies they want?” begged Lorrella, with a sulky look.
Amdirlain laid the parchment on the counter and Lorrella bopped on the spot as she looked it over.
“Oh, they’re playing with lingering fire, poison, and some fun acids. These quantities they’ve marked down looks like someone’s either preparing siege weaponry or is in full-on experimentation mode,” Lorrella said thoughtfully and glanced at Amdirlain. “I don’t have most of this stuff, it’s not things I play with routinely.”
“Do you have any information I can purchase on finding and gathering these materials?” Amdirlain asked warily.
“The information is easy enough, but I’m not a bookseller,” refuted Lorrella primly.
“Know who can I talk to about a treatise?” sighed Amdirlain.
“No, I’ll teach you, but for each one of these materials I teach you about, I’ll also teach you about one to gather for me,” Lorrella announced. “You get me at least twenty units of both — which I’ll buy from you, per our standard rate — before I teach you about the next one from their list.”
“Unit being a gland, leaf or spoonful depending on the material?” Amdirlain asked, wanting to be sure she would not be gathering tons.
“You knew your references,” said Lorrella, giving her a beatific smile. “Which have you worked with before: Wizard or Alchemist?”
“Wizard,” admitted Amdirlain. “We worked using already gathered materials.”
“Wizards just need them good enough to hold the spell effect,” Lorrella said dismissively, her shoulders slumping. “Alchemists are more precise about the material’s purity. Right, first on this list—Flame Gecko glands—seems straightforward, but for best results, you need it alive when you cut it out. Furnace has the biggest population of them in the Abyss, otherwise, you’ll need to head over to the Elemental Plane of Fire to find them frequently. Now you start the incision-”
Vivisection—hard pass.
“How about starting with something acidic instead?” prompted Amdirlain, and Lorrella glanced up at her interruption.
“Most Succubi prefer gathering flaming materials,” observed Lorrella.
“Likely because they’re always hot and bothered about something,” Amdirlain retorted, and Lorrella smiled whimsically.
“Very well, they need Krillnix pollen so you could draw sap from it for me,” Lorrella said, waving a finger at her. ”But you’ll need to buy your own tools for that I’m not providing them. It requires glass containers for storing the pollen, steel for the sap. Even then, you’ll need to process the sap within ten cycles or it will have eaten through most steel jars. Now pay attention, I’ll draw out the region of the flower neck the pollen has to be retrieved from.”
Lorrella waved a hand above the counter, an illusion of tree overgrown with tentacle ringed mouths appeared and changed with her explanation.
“Aren’t they such pretty flowers? They’re not shy about trying to eat you, which makes them so much fun!” exclaimed Lorrella. “Prune whenever they regrow and try to entangle you, though ensure the flower’s throat stays intact to avoid containments in drying pollen. Now to get the most pollen produced, you’ll need to feed whatever wildlife you can capture to a flower, the fresher the better. Once the flower’s acid has stopped fizzing, you’ll see puss-like fluid welling out of the upper curve of the throat.”
“Is that what I need to extract?” asked Amdirlain, having watched the illusion’s transformation.
“Yes, but don’t retrieve it until it’s dried into a fluffy greenish-yellow powder. Any pollen balls that are still damp inside will be useless,” cautioned Lorrella, before she pointed to a bark ridge along the side of the tree’s trunk. “Best sap locations are the areas where you can see these ridges moving. Best ensure you puncture them cleanly when you set a tap—unless you want to lose lots of skin and flesh. To get to Ûbuthan, best to go via the Plane of Portals, the entry point from there is above a lake—safer than ending up straight among the jungle’s trees.”
Yum Yum, dried flower snot, acidic fire hoses, and jungle travel.
Some of it is what I’m looking for since I need acid resistance.
“Are there poisonous things also or just the acid to watch out for?” asked Amdirlain, the curiosity she deliberately slipped into her question had Lorrella considering her intently.
“Lots of poisons. I’ll teach you how to harvest them later,” confirmed Lorrella. “For now, one thing at a time, since I want to make sure you come back to me, sweetie. You’ve been a naughty girl dealing with another Alchemist, except for the profit I’d feel offended.”
* * *
Hours later, with her shopping done, Amdirlain stood on a ledge within a howling shaft. The hurricane-force wind smashed against her even as it swirled against the surrounding walls. With a push to ensure she kept clear of them, she flew upwards. Many close calls later, reality ripped around her and she materialised in mid-air above a battered rocky plain. In every direction as far as she could see, stone resembled gore-crusted, arrow-shot cheese. Spires of blood and rot reached towards an empty black sky, wind blew hauntingly across the portal holes, a horde of flutes playing a mishmash of foul music. Re-orientating herself using Lorrella’s directions, she flew in search of the spire that stood by the pit that led to Ûbuthan.
The Portals that Amdirlain passed were the source of the Plane’s wind, each howled with an ever-present force. Occasionally Amdirlain spotted other Demons including caravans weaving between the pits. She watched one caravan proceed out over a pit and each member fell only when fully clear of stone. Shaking her head at the ‘logic’ applied by the Planar Portals here, she could only push the craziness aside and keep moving. A circle of arching spires around Ûbuthan’s pointed inwards as if a maw closing around it. The moment Amdirlain flew out over the Portal’s pit, intent on entering it, the surrounding wind reversed.
Ûbuthan’s sunlight was searingly bright, the heat from it causing the air to shimmer in heatwaves as Amdirlain adjusted to the rapid change. Below her wasn’t something she’d considered a lake rather a foul sludge pit. Black fluid clotted with fallen branches, trees, and countless corpses didn’t exactly make it a picturesque lakeside location. Yet the odour coming from it was overpoweringly sweet thickening the air like a honey jar had exploded inside her nostrils rather than the gross decay she’d expected.
The lake was nearly nine kilometres across at its widest point, an irregular teardrop shape struck with veins of sludge spilling between trees to replenish it. Massive trees towered towards the white sunlight overhead with trucks larger than apartment blocks. At ground level, shrubs literally fought over patches of sunlight as animated as those in Ebusuku’s rooftop garden. When in victory a combatant smashed its opponent against the trunk of a three-metre tall tree, the winning shrub’s victory was short-lived as a descending branch pulped it. None of the trees she could see bore the flowers she was after and Lorrella’s advice to fly through the canopy seemed a lot more unpredictable, having seen the jungle.
A sighting of a giant cat on the shoreline stopped her survey, having finished urinating against a tree’s roots, a branch lowered to scritch it. Once the administration of its reward stopped, it buried the puddle, vomited a congealed mess of fur, bone, and rotting flesh atop the fresh dirt and ran towards the undergrowth.
Seriously, wouldn’t want that cat puking on my kitchen floor. That’s one gross hairball.
Analysis
[Species: Ursa Panthera (Infected)
Level: 42
Health: 630
Defence: 84
Magic: 20
Mana: 210
Melee Attack Power: 92
Combat Skills: Bite [Ad] (30), Claw [M](5), Rake [M](2) - Innate Powers: Greater Chameleon [Ad](21), Confusion [Ad](21), Spore Infection [Ad] (30)
Details: Implanted spores from Ûbuthan’s foliage cause an increase in intelligence and size while inclining the infected to be protective of the foliage. These creatures split their time, foraging for prey at ground level or among the branches.
]
Nice kitty?
With no direction standing out, Amdirlain flew towards the pointed end of the lake’s teardrop form. Her passage gaining attention from a cat as she approached; a field of Psi energy convinced the predator it needed to go elsewhere. Telepathy broadcast an unpleasant vibe as she flew onwards and more predators fled the Psi energy.
