AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 150 - Lash out
🕑 Added 2021-12-31 12:25:45 +0000 UTCKlipyl’s PoV - Catacombs
Claws caress in quick strikes that slip along my breasts and make them jiggle but can’t gain purchase.
“Oh, are you hungry, little Ghoul?”
Frey retches in time to the wet slapping noise its tongue makes coiling around my arm. “Just kill it, Klipyl.”
“But it’s hungry! Look, it’s trying to chew my hand,” I say. Moving to give Frey a better view scrapes the Ghoul along the wall, and its serpentine tongue coils tighter around my wrist. “Who’s a hungry little Ghoulie? You are, yes you are, aren’t you? Are you shy? Why don’t you say anything?”
“How is it supposed to say anything with your fist in its mouth? Why are you even holding its tongue? Kill it, please,” insists Frey, looking paler than me in the Archon’s golden light.
“Curiosity,” I say, and clawed toes scrape high between my legs, prompting me to glare. “You’re a Ghoul. I’m a Demon. Exactly how dumb are you to think your claws will hurt? Though given you kicked me in the crotch, your stupidity is a given.”
My muttered icy words in Necril slither through the catacomb’s stagnant air and draw a shiver from Frey.
The sudden delightful scent of charring meat mocks the searing pain of light twisting in my eyes and the glowing dots in my field of vision. Pieces were sprayed down my front, and the body’s splat provided a distraction from the fire racing through my fingers.
“That was my toy, Firefly!”
The words echo back in the silence, but no screeches of annoyance at the energy.
“Frey said please, it’s a magic word!”
“It’s not, and it’s still not fair,” the words hiss from my lips, and Firefly hides behind Frey, casting her shadow down the passage. “It was my plaything!”
“Frey summoned me so too bad. By the way, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but you’ve got Ghoul gunk all over your hoo hoo!”
Waving my still burning hand at the Archon, the smoke makes a haze in its light. “I’ll get to it but naughty; you hurt my hand!”
“Then don’t have your fist inside mouths,” declares the little bug solemnly. “Headshots count for triple points at the Archon’s target range.”
I blink the dots from my vision and smile at her; she’s carefully not given any name, but the lilting voice makes her gender clear. “Some things like a fisting.”
“Why would anything like being punched?” she murmurs thoughtfully, her tone changing quickly to excited. “Oh, a Kyton would enjoy pain. I’d forgotten about them.”
“You’re such an excitable little girl,” I laugh. “Nevermind, Firefly. Maybe you shouldn’t know, though Kytons, I’m sure, would love a fisting in more ways than one.”
“Can we move on?” Frey groans and motions towards the narrow stairs upwards.
“Are you okay, Frey?”
Firefly echoes my question before her meshwork’s pattern spins to face me. “Huh?”
Frey’s smooths a grimace away and waves at the stairs again. “All the fighting is wearing me down. I’ll be glad to get out of here. I’m so hungry; Water Law’s Condensation will only keep that need at bay so long.”
“I’m sorry I keep getting them angry,” Firefly murmurs mournfully. ”I’ll scout the next level.”
“Wait, I need your light,” starts Frey with a hurriedly raised hand.
“Oh right, sorry, I promised to stick with you.”
Shape changing my wings away, I beat Frey onto the stairs this time, leaving smears behind in their narrow confines. The rock’s texture changes with every turn, the stagnant air slowly pulsing with power; they finally straighten ten steps before meeting a stone slab, with energy saturating the air just below it. The wards’ whose power runs tingling across my skin in a way that makes the Ghoul’s claws more fun.
“What’s going on?”
Frey’s question came drifting up.
“Just watch my tail. There’s a cut stone blocking the way, with layered wards. I don’t know what they stop, but likely at least my Teleport. Why don’t you loot some of those bodies down below? You’ll need some valuables to buy clothing.”
“They’ll be recognisable as grave goods; though, who says this is the top floor?”
“There are complex wards below the slab that run into the walls. Who’d bother putting such protections in multiple places?”
“Someone wanting to be safe,” retorts Frey glibly. “I don’t know, maybe like a certain Wizard with all his traps.”
Snorting at her retort, I twist about on the narrow stairs to meet her gaze. “Yet the same someone didn’t bother blocking four other sets of stairs?”
“Fine, that makes more sense. I don’t want to loot grave goods, but you still have the ward stone for his place. Since you killed him, you could claim his possessions, whatever Ståle and the rest left behind. Some of his guards’ clothing would at least cover me up.”
“Fine, step around the last curve,” I reply, shooing her off.
Frey’s gaze narrows at my words. “Why?”
“If it throws me away, I’ll hit the wall instead of you.”
She doesn’t reply, merely easing back down the stairs, and Firefly’s light retreats further.
My fingertips brush the wards without response, but I don’t relax until my claws gouge lines across the stone without provoking a reaction. A hard braced shove against the rock doesn’t cause it to shift even a fraction.
“It’s either jammed in place or just too heavy. I’ll have to dig us out.”
Without waiting for her response, I rake claws across the slab—mundane rock parting like rotting flesh beneath my hands. The splashing debris soon sets Frey coughing even around the curve and forces a further retreat.
Fresh air brushing across my fingertips comes only after I’m elbow deep into the rock. Rather than breaking out into Holy Ground, as other Mortal burial sites I’ve seen in my stay contained, no fires sear my flesh. The breeze carries profane energy and the coolness of night. Slowly the hole expands until it’s big enough to allow me to climb into the once high-ceiling chamber above. One wall has collapsed, and the room has a despoiled temple’s feel, given the types of decorations and the woman’s statue. One wall’s broken mural shows the same naked woman with feathered wings holding an inverted and extinguished torch—one side of her is blackened, while the other is still an unblemished white.
“I’m through. It’s a desecrated Temple up here.”
My words called down the hole echo for a moment before I hear Frey scramble to her feet. Frey’s passage through the hole eclipsed Firefly’s light. The stone’s edges scour Mortal flesh and leave her clothing far the worse for wear.
“This must be Belum. The Sahuagin hit it early in the war,” Frey’s mutter isn’t meaningful, but there are no minds within my Telepathy’s limits.
“I’ll get gear from the compound. Stay alive now! “
Frey just nods jerkily at my statement and her hands try to secure her shredded clothing.
The compound’s gates stand open, and the liveliest presence is the stench of death. A clicking noise draws my attention to a trap futilely trying to reset beyond the main door. The guards are where I left them in the compound’s watchtowers, but their weapons and equipment are nowhere to be seen. The stable is empty of horses, mules, and gear prompting a sigh of relief at not having to deal with the girls. They’ll have made decent time if they stick to the road in sight of the walls, or they’re dead in a ditch—their choices are theirs and not my problem. Wherever they’ve run off to, I hope Frey doesn’t expect us to track them down.
When I push the main door open, I spot the cause of the noise. A hand axe, fallen from Ståle’s grasp, sits amid blood and bowels, caught under the lip of a barbed spike that impaled him. The clicking sound comes from the floor, echoing inside the entryway every time the spike’s mechanism tries to retract. Rats on his body chew away at scraps of exposed flesh and give me the evil eye, before ignoring me to feed. The things don’t even stop when I slip past and head upstairs for the Wizard’s chambers.
The rug’s white wool tickles against my feet while I look over his anteroom. The stuffed hide couch, fancy reading table, and cupboard are now in pieces littering the floor with shards. Valuables are missing among the remains. I’m not worried about most, but the pretty silver carafe and the Elven crystal goblets being gone has me grinding my teeth.
The magic sealing the Wizard’s bed chamber is undisturbed, but the putrid odour beyond leaks from around the door’s edges. Dead Mortals are so weird; seeing him sprawled out on his bed reminds me of this fact. His limbs were all askew, bloating flesh with blood leaking from nose and mouth, cutting lines through the froth and fluid he’d choked on.
“I told you not to kiss me, but did you listen? No!”
Silk sheets, slimy with his various leakages, are now sadly beyond salvage. My nails tapping on the dark-stained footboard has the sound of splintering wood echoing through the upper floor. His spacious room is larger than the cells he’d kept a score of prisoners in, all for him alone.
The ward stone still is warm near the main cupboard and two travel chests set along the wall, warning me of places I’m not allowed to go. The cupboard near his door provides only three storage bags I can teleport with, the static weight of the others making them too great. Two bookshelves provide grimoires, a wand collection, and various other possessions displayed with a pride of place that hopefully matches their value.
Greed makes it so tempting to break through the protections, but the few bags I can carry help me push greed aside, though curiosity takes longer to fight off. Even limiting my looting to spots my ward stone allows me to open, I can’t carry all I want to take in the bags I have. Three return trips has all the bags delivered to Frey and the Firefly.
“That’s all I can bring,” I say, setting the last bag near Frey. “Unless you’d like me to grab items we can’t easily carry?”
“Are you going to be alright now? I might attract a bit of attention staying with you,” Firefly says, her light softer in the morning light.
The number of ambushes she provoked makes me snort, but the smoked Ghoul aroma isn’t forgettable. “I’ll keep her safe, Firefly. I’ve no desire to go back to the Abyss.”
“I’ll let the others know what happened.”
“Stay safe yourself, Firefly. You weren’t completely useless, at least you pulled everything from their hiding spots.”
“That’s mean, I said I was sorry. I can’t help how strongly they react,” grumbles Firefly, a moment before her light winks out.
“The arsehole got himself killed by a trap, however all the horses and girls are gone. Those tricky horses—who’d have thought they could get clean away by themselves.”
Frey looks at me wide-eyed and for the first time bawls, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Amdirlain’s PoV - The Exchange
She’d been waiting a few hours when the alien foot traffic parted hurriedly and attracted Amdirlain’s attention away from the Class details. Sidero came stalking through them, her chains chiming out a metallic hiss with every step.
“Did you lose track of your mummy, little girl?” Sidero quipped, but her low husky growl made the cheeky question indecent.
Amdirlain just ignored the taunt and cut right to the chase. “Do you have somewhere secure we can talk?”
Her forked tongue tasted the air, and Sidero tilted her head at Amdirlain. “I’ve a workshop, come along. You ignored my advice, didn’t you?”
“Not ignored, I fully intended to take it,” conceded Amdirlain. “Things came up. “
“That explains your scent then, such a sucker for punishment,” huffed Sidero, and strode back the way she’d came.
Sidero led the way through maze of buildings, passages, and tunnels without the slightest hesitation, until they eventually stopped outside a rune-etched solid metal door. The runes lit up the moment Sidero touched its surface, and it swung upper to show a smithery beyond. The tools and forge carried as many runes as the Master Artificer’s tools, and looked well used, but had Infernal energies about them.
Amdirlain looked it over and bought herself a moment, taking in the runes’ energy. “Where did you get all the equipment?”
“It belonged to Gaius, though technically, I guess it still belongs to him,” conceded Sidero, waving at the room’s contents
“You stole it?” accused Amdirlain. “You took the equipment used on the expedition?”
The distasteful look on Sidero’s face almost turned her smile into a sneer. “I had the equipment still in my Inventory when the contract’s terms returned me to Hell.”
“Would you like me to get funds to him for replacing the equipment?” asked Amdirlain, glad that the conversation didn’t immediately go to their own issues.
“He made more than enough wealth from the excess monster parts to replace this equipment twenty-fold,” refuted Sidero.
“Doesn’t mean stealing it was right,” asserted Amdirlain.
Sidero huffed and dug a claw into a gap between scars on her forearm. “No, it wasn’t right, but it happened. I’m not talking about him, I should never have mentioned him again.”
Her gaze caught on the blood dripping from Sidero’s wound; Amdirlain’s expression twisted between disbelief and pain, hooked on the edge of tears. “Please, stop doing that it yourself. You’d have never done that before. I’m not sure I recognise myself now. How about you? Is there anything of Sarah left? Why did you assist with that contract?”
“Don’t project your pain on me. He made his choice, Amdirlain. I made mine and followed the contract’s terms. He was an idiot for being pressured into signing it, and I told him so repeatedly that I’m sick of that subject. An expedition filled with hypocrites, and arseholes, but of them all, I’m pretty sure I was the biggest,” admitted Sidero.
Amdirlain frowned and bit back her anger. “Really? How is that? Maybe because you were always big on talking about respecting an individual’s desires if they didn’t bring harm; yet you held him to a contract for evil? Where was your ability to make a choice, Sarah? Did someone come to harm because of your desires?”
“I’m not the one stinking of pain right now. Why don’t I ask you a question? Isa-”
“No!” blurted Amdirlain. “Please, I’m begging you to tell me, you can call yourself whoever you like, but let me know!”
“If I wasn’t still Sarah—in some respect—I would have let you walk into Hell. I don’t talk about your business. Think of it as client confidentiality. I will say Mother was amused by the outcome. That’s all you get. Isa right now is free. How does that make you feel?” probed Sidero, her strange sulphur-yellow gaze fixed on Amdirlain.
“You—”
“Enough, Amdirlain, please! I’ve said all I’ll say on the subject,” pleaded Sidero. “I won’t tell you anything more. No matter what you say, or do to me, or yourself. I’m skirting my own limits by telling you what I did.”
Her declaration froze through Amdirlain, and she nodded jerkily. “Turned into a Planetar. She’s got the looks of a tall, golden-skinned Elf, but more muscles; four wings of randomly shifting colours, all beautiful,” replied Amdirlain, her words flat and stopped when Sidero gave a bemused smile.
Her smile broadened further at Amdirlain’s wary look and Sidero waved her off her protest. “I didn’t ask you what she looks like and I really don’t care. I asked how it makes you feel. You’ve had this brilliant success, so why do you smell like someone flayed you alive?”
“I—”
Shaking her head at the determined look that fixed itself on Amdirlain’s face, Sidero waved her off. “Don’t give me whatever logic you’re about to deliver. Close your eyes and think back to when she changed form. How did you feel?”
“She’d been in Hell longer,” asserted Amdirlain.
“And? So what? You’re trying to justify her being free first. I’m asking how it made you feel, your immediate emotion,” Sidero insisted, her gaze studying Amdirlain’s posture.
The muscles along Amdirlain’s jaw flexed for a few moments before she spoke carefully. “I thought you didn’t trust yourself to give advice.”
“Since when is asking a question giving advice? Why do you want to change the subject?” Sidero asked emphatically.
“I wanted it to be me!” snarled Amdirlain. “The stupid thing is, I even told her I expected it to break the curse. The wording of your curses were so different to mine. Am I really a bitch? Is that why the curse didn’t break? Maybe I am, because when the evolution changed her into an Angel, I wanted to scream. I was so jealous it was knives cutting me open. No, Naz’rilca’s knives hurt less. Claws twisting through my guts would have hurt less. I was jealous of my friend being free, and then the excitement caught her up celebrating when Ainla changed as well.”
“Ainla?” Sidero asked, in confusion.
Sighing at the distraction, “I had to rename them both to avoid Hell re-summoning them. I didn’t want to risk using her old name in case it reapplied.”
“It doesn’t. Call her what you want if you don’t concentrate on re-applying the name, it doesn’t change back,” Sidero asserted.
Amdirlain started in surprise. “You know this for certain?”
“I’ve renamed a few entities,” admitted Sidero. “Their names don’t change back.”
The tacit admission that Sidero also had Profile Mastery caused Amdirlain to raise an eyebrow, but she carried on without asking. “That’s good, since Isa kept calling her Ilya.”
“You mentioned the excitement caught her up celebrating—with Ilya, I assume. Did your jealousy keep you from celebrating as well?”
Amdirlain nodded jerkily and Sidero just sighed.
“The reputation of insanity?” Sidero questioned.
“Faked, Ilya apparently had a grudge against Hell for being tricked. I don’t know the details, but she was brooding on a dead child’s face. When they teamed up they had each other’s backs, she trained Isa in everything she needed to know to survive.”
Sidero’s barked laughter slapped off the chamber’s wall with an icy edge. “Lucky wench. I told you initially I had expected her to land on her feet.”
“You don’t know it by half—she’s a Priestess of Luck,” retorted Amdirlain. “I got the details from Ilya’s mind, but Isa was ready enough to admit an Augury led them to me.”
“Wow, that must seem like a real kick in the teeth. She’s free and had backup nearly the whole time,“ said Sidero.
“She did. Backup that even took a Prestige Class focused on protecting her, Ila genuinely wants Isa safe.”
“Wait, you didn’t get the details from Isa’s mind?” asked Sidero. “You said you took Psion.”
”I can’t read hers or yours, or hear any broadcast thoughts,” said Amdirlain. “Only a Greater Power can see through our hidden state, apparently that includes reading our minds. I found that out ages ago. It’s one reason they stuck my hand on that spike Balnérith couldn’t read my mind either.”
“I thought you were staying out of my mind because of your manners. Mother can read mine,” admitted Sidero, and Amdirlain froze in fear at her sudden revelation.
Emotionally exhausted, the news had her swaying in place, and Amdirlain sat on the floor in an ungainly fashion. “What?”
“Not that it would have mattered. She knew something was off the moment my egg rocked,” added Sidero. “It was a runt, and she knew nothing would be born from it. Her eggs had only ever hatched when she lets them free from hibernation. Mine started moving of its own accord instead of staying frozen in the mud.”
“Holy Fuck Sidero,” gasped Amdirlain. “How are you still alive? Does she know about me and Isa?”
“Mother has an agreement with the Arch Devils, but Kytons aren’t Devils. We report to her hierarchy when we’re not serving in the armies of Hell. The rulers of Hell don’t command her, they ask and trade favours,” Sidero replied matter-of-factly. “She doesn’t care about either of you, you don’t carry her blood.”
“You both had someone protecting your back,” Amdirlain screamed, and slapped her hands across her mouth at the volume. “Sorry that was—”
“Loud, but understandable,” interrupted Sidero. “Though if it help thinks of it more that I had someone standing guard on my sentence. Testing me, and deciding if I warranted further punishment.”
“How did she take the situation with Gaius?” asked Amdirlain flatly, unsure what to make of Sidero's involvement.
“Again with this? I said that’s not your business. You can send me back to Hell, but you can’t force me to involve you further in Hell’s business. I’m not doing that to you. Please stop asking me to risk you,” Sidero demanded, her gaze not leaving Amdirlain. A mix of emotions showed on Amdirlain’s face, and when anger rose higher than the rest, another question pushed her off balance. “What do you have planned now?”
Rage had Amdirlain’s Angelic Aura switch on all of its own accord, and she fought through all the other pain to dampen it. Sidero watched on, curiously unconcerned.
“Give me a sign you’re still in there, Sarah. Why should I help you if you helped damn someone’s Soul?”
“That’s your own pain asking, don’t go there, sweetie. You have yourself so fucked up already, and you wonder why I’m not telling you a thing. It’s nothing for you to get involved in. I can smell your misery, the amount of pain you’re already in, and every potential outcome from that contract is going to have you worried about someone. Just stop asking about it. I shouldn’t have said a thing about Mother’s knowledge. You’re showing it’s not safe to tell you about a resolved situation. What can I talk to you about?”
“Then explain how it’s not a danger,” insisted Amdirlain
“You’re not letting this go, are you?”
Her brow furrowing, Amdirlain took a half-dozen slow breaths before she responded. “No, I can’t. I honestly can’t. Fine, but I need to take concerns off my plate, please.”
Sidero bit into her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and worried at it while she thought. “Gaius isn’t in Hell yet. He’s still alive. What he ends up achieving for redemption or damnation is on his head. As for my situation, all I’ll tell is that Mother doesn’t care where my Soul comes from, she cares about the blood in me. The Titan used the dead egg to fashion a host, but he crafted it so well I smell of her bloodline. He repurposed her trash to put it bluntly. They have an arrangement, so she’s more curious where his crafting leads than anything else. She admitted she was a touch miffed, but only to the extent she made my shroud heavier than any she’d set on my sisters. Is that enough for now?”
Amdirlain watched her ripped lip seal shut before she spoke. “Arrangement?”
“One of the few safer subjects of Hell, he forged the chains that bind her to Hell’s bedrock. She can’t move far, but they also mean she is absolutely unkillable. She couldn’t drive out the Devils when they arrived because of where she’s bound. Yet even if they can get to her, they couldn’t kill her, and they tried. Her hand maidens made a mess of the first regiments that came near our home, so Asmodeus ended up negotiating with her instead. But that’s all ancient history. Since you’ve not tried to smite me for being a bad bitch, where do we go from here?” asked Sidero, and smirked at Amdirlain’s suddenly gritted teeth.
“You need a Tier Seven achievement. Then hopefully—once you have level one hundred—I can get you free with the same process.”
“Oh, of course, I’ll just pop down the shops and pick one up then,” teased Sidero, and stood with wary movements, her gaze not leaving Amdirlain’s sudden fists.
Slowly Amdirlain’s hands unclenched and her right hand moved of its own accord to wrap around her braid. Tugging and twisting it in a white-knuckled grip that had Sidero reach for her hand.
“Don’t touch me right now,” warned Amdirlain. “You’ve got your chains on and I don’t feel up to losing flesh from hugging you along with everything else.”
Sidero’s gaze flicked between Amdirlain braid and face. “Then stop pulling your own hair, or do you plan to tear it out wholesale? Self harm isn’t a healthy thing.”
“You hurt yourself,” rebutted Amdirlain. “Or did Santa Claus deliver your scars because you were such a good girl?”
A bitter smile twisted Sidero’s lips in response to her words. “I’m a Kyton; I know I’m fucked in the head. You’re supposed to be the saner one, out of two nutcases. If you wouldn’t do it to someone you care about, then don’t do it to yourself.”
Shaking her head slowly from side to side, the pressure continually increased. “There are a few people I’d scalp repeatedly.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You might say you would, but you’re not really one for torture,” argued Sidero. “And I said care about sweetie, not enemies.”
“I ripped his cock off and shoved it in his mouth,” said Amdirlain, her flat tone and abrupt subject change stopped Sidero in surprise. “He’s there impaled, and I did something so vicious when he’s already suffering.”
Catching on to who Amdirlain meant, Sidero smiled and purred. “It’s okay, I plan to do much worse to your stalker boy.”
Amdirlain shock her head erratically, and her suddenly brittle voice edging towards a scream “Don’t! Just let him stay there. He knows the Titan is going to keep him there until time ends.”
“That’s such a shame, but what someone else is paying him I’m not interested in. My chief concern at present is why you stink like you’re right there beside him? You need to deal with all this pain you’ve got knotted inside yourself,” declared Sidero. “I’ve seen this in sessions, Amdirlain. People in extreme pain will lash out.”
“I know that!” snarled Amdirlain, and clenched her teeth to prevent more words from getting loose. Sidero waited her out, perched on her anvil. “I’m going to see about fixing myself. There are things I need moving or I won’t be able focus on doing that. You’re essentially sworn to Order right? Would you put a continent being overrun by Illithid’s drones back in order?”
Sidero tapped her nails against the anvil for a moment, before finally she gave Amdirlain a nod. “Fixing yourself. Pretty sure you’re not broken.”
“I am broken,” Amdirlain replied. “Look at how I lashed out at you—”
A raised hand stopped Amdirlain again, and Sidero’s smile held no malice. “No sweetie, you can vent at me all you like. I have my sensitive subjects as well and in no way am I fit to be anyone's therapist, but pain isn’t from being broken. Wounds provide pain to let us know there is an injury that needs to be tended. You need to take time to heal. You've never been someone that allowed yourself time to process her pain, and they don’t heal fully until you do.”
“I should go, I shouldn’t have come,” Amdirlain stated, and rose.
“Tell me more,” Sidero said, and Amdirlain stopped in confusion.
“What?”
“These Illithid’s drones, tell me more,” clarified Sidero, motioning Amdirlain to sit down.
It didn’t take Amdirlain long to cover the situation with the Erakkö and what they’d learnt. When she was finished speaking just Sidero sat quietly and Amdirlain let the stillness run onwards until they were both interrupted.
A message buzzed into existence near Amdirlain, and Solveiga word’s whisper into her ear. “Lady Amdirlain, sorry if you’re busy; Runa is back and has some weird news. A Priestess named Frey summoned her, but she was with another Priestess named Klipyl—a Succubus. She left them in a ruin east of Nova Roma. I thought you should know at once. Runa witnessed her casting spells in Celestial despite it apparently injuring her.”
“I have a Priestess who is a Succubus, and casts spells in Celestial,” muttered Amdirlain.
Sidero’s eyebrows raised at the words. “Come again?”
“That’s all I know. She’s on the Material Plane. Which means she has a Pact with someone, and is corrupting a Soul. I need to know what is going on. I’ll leave you to think about the Erakkö’s situation,” Amdirlain whispered, and flowed upright.
“Let me pack!” Sidero exclaimed quickly, the moment Amdirlain turned towards the door. “You can’t summon her in The Exchange, so I’ll go with you. Save you coming back to get me, so I can help the Erakkö. That’s really why you’re asking, aren’t you?”
The question caused Amdirlain to turn to study Sidero.
“I thought you weren’t interested. I’d consider it a help, but the continent is a mess, so it needs to be tidied up,” argued Amdirlain. Though fighting against the tide of emotions pulling at her flattened her voice. “If you contribute enough restoring order to the continent, it might count as a Tier Seven achievement.”
Sidero waved her explanation off and fixed her gaze on Amdirlain. “I was thinking about it. You can’t allow others to see what interests you in Hell. Whether I get any achievement; I’ll still get lots of experience and I need that. Tell me, where’s your brain gone right now? You need to focus on first reactions to find your wounds.”
“One of my Priestesses likely has a Pact with a Demon and if I just leave the situation alone her Soul will become corrupted. A Demon—not a betrayed Lómë—is a Priest, my head’s spinning,” admitted Amdirlain.
“Ebusuku was a Demoness.” Sidero pointed out.
“She was a very unusual Succubus,” retorted Amdirlain quickly. “Klipyl not so much. I heard her thoughts.”
“You used a Gate in the Outlands to reach Isaac that time. Using that approach, or yanking her to you?”
“She’s summoned to the Material Plane so I can’t just yank her to me. I also need to investigate Frey’s condition. My thoughts are going in directions I don’t like, so I’ve not a fucking clue what to ask. They’re likely to freak, no matter what I say,” admitted Amdirlain. “Do you think they’ll actually tell me what happened?”
“Customer satisfaction survey?” Sidero glibly retorted only for Amdirlain snort.
Forced cheer laced every acidic word that ran from Amdirlain. “On a scale of 1 being completely disagree, and five being strongly agree, please rate these statements.”
“Okay, that’s enough. You don’t have to torture us with my joke,” chided Sidero. “Just let me pack.”
In moments Sidero had emptied the space; the forge and everything else disappeared into her Inventory. Amdirlain followed along quietly while Sidero returned the space’s ward stone, before they headed to an exit. The descent took them to a black room identical to her previous departure, and the stairs disappeared behind them the moment they were within.
“How would you have gone anywhere, Sidero?” Amdirlain huffed in exasperation. “You can’t Planar travel.”
“You ask me that now?” replied Sidero. “The markets here have stalls that sell various Planar transport objects. I picked one up with para-Elemental Ice shards the day I arrived.”
Her curiosity satisfied, Amdirlain opened the Gate back to the Outlands again. This time she picked a spot near the Spire, not feeling stable enough to venture near her Domain or even to revisit the ridgeline. The instant it opened, Sidero stepped through unfussed about the possibility of attack. Tall trees rose above, casting them in shadow, and she headed towards a clearing some distance away.
Amdirlain followed her but didn’t immediately speak, to allow herself a moment to sort her thoughts before she spoke. “My Celestials can speak to me via an Oath Link. If she can do the same, would you be open to taking Klipyl with you to fight the Thri-Kreen? I’d like you to be able to get in touch with me. There is also the issue that if she stays with Frey any Pact will end up corrupting her Soul. Though just telling her to go back to the Abyss isn’t safe given she’s casting Celestial blessings. Klipyl is interesting, I’ll give her that much.”
Sidero didn’t answer immediately, but appeared fascinated by the clouds above her. “I’ve dealt with Succubi in Hell, but no promises. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll get her to send a message, or I’ll just store her in a bottle.”
“Don’t joke about that, Sidero,” grumbled Amdirlain.
“Who’s joking? I made an iron flask that would hold a Succubus; think of it like a genie-style vacation spot for Demons.”
“That better be a last resort, Sidero,” grumbled Amdirlain. “What did you make that for?”
“Don’t worry it wasn’t in case you needed a time out. Though I was thinking about starting a Demon collection, one of each—got to catch them all.” teased Sidero. “We might be able to come to an arrangement, if she proves herself useful.”
“That’s if she’s even interested,” retorted Amdirlain, and opened a Gate focused on Klipyl. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but she wasn’t prepared for what she found.
An ash-blond Norse woman, clad in badly torn clothing, sat on broken stonework. Dew speckled across weeds and grass in the morning sunlight, her face buried in her hands. Muffled sobs echoed through the surrounding ruins. A very confused—and naked—Klipyl awkwardly patted her back with a bewildered expression, the tip of her tail scratching between her wings nervously. Some hastily discarded bags lay scattered around the woman’s feet.
[Name: Frey
Species: Human (Norse Ancestry)
Class: Whore / Monk / Wizard / Priest
Level: 5 / 7 / 7 / 7
Health: 286
Defence: 24
Faith: 22
Magic: 34
Mana: 726
Ki: 26
Melee Attack Power: 21
Combat Skills: Dagger [J] (5), Quarter Staff [J] (12), Unarmed Combat [J] (12) - Affinities: Water, Air - Water Law, Air Law (Tier One), - Various Blessings
Details: Kicked out of home after earning enough money working to prevent her family from being turned into Thralls. Instructed in a winter boot camp with several other ladies in the same profession, Frey was one of the more able students. While some of them joined the Adventurers’ Guild, their base of operations continues to be the brothel that Livia helped them buy. Planning to talk to Livia about the company she keeps?
]
[Name: Klipyl
Species: Succubus
Class: Succubus / Priest / Scout / Fighter
Level: 1 / 33 / 32 / 32 / 32
Health: 3,205
Defence: 187
Faith: 42
Magic: 43
Mana: 4,698
Melee Attack Power: 125
Combat Skills: Bite [M] (2), Claws [M](12), Tail Strike [M](4) - Affinity: Mental - Various Spell Forms and Blessings
Details: Taken off the streets by a kind benefactor who used her as a spy and almost got her form destroyed. After getting tossed through the Abyss’ inferno, she found her true calling and her Faith in her benefactor upon emerging. I call trauma bonding. You’ve been so mean to her.
]
Still just in the first level of the new species Tier. Her Succubus class has jumped from sixteen, and all three of the new classes have risen fast. Fuck, we fought together with those last Demons. Did I set her experience progression higher?
“Would you both come through, please?” Amdirlain asked softly, not inclined to chance raising her voice.
The pair of them looked around in shock and Klipyl spun in her direction, deliberately stepping between the Gate and Frey, claws raised to attack. A chain around her neck showed a roughly carved symbol that echoed the feel of Amdirlain’s own, though the appearance of it was certainly different. Instead of a candle, the amulet had a shattered torc cut into the stone.
Okay, now I’ve seen everything.
“Klipyl and Frey, please come through. I’d like to have a talk about your situation,” said Amdirlain.
“Who are you?” Klipyl asked, not moving away from Frey.
The words, invoking Isa’s reaction, threatened her balance, but Amdirlain clung on by her nails to the mental cliff face.
“I look different from when we met at the Hollow, Klipyl. Though I’m glad you took my advice about having options besides beauty,” noted Amdirlain. “I’m certainly interested in finding out how you’ve grown.”
“Lady Amdirlain,” Klipyl said, and quickly relaxed from being poised to attack. “What—”
“Lady Amdirlain!” Frey echoed in shock and stood, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands.
Raising a hand to still the flood of words that looked ready to spill forth, Amdirlain forced her voice to stay soft. “Please come through and bring your things.”
The Succubus picked up the closest bags and prompted Frey to get the other before she ushered her through the Gate. Klipyl’s glance flickered between Amdirlain and Sidero, but she held her peace. When Amdirlain sat on the grass she motioned them to sit, and they followed her example. Frey’s mind was a whirlwind of painful thoughts, and Amdirlain carefully blocked the noise off. The effects of the Pact between them were visible in the threads of infected blackness lacing across Frey’s Soul, while the most recent rapes she’d endured harpooned Amdirlain’s raw emotions.
“Frey, how can I help?” asked Amdirlain, tears in her eyes for the woman’s pain, her hand extended without conscious thought.
Tears mirror her own in Frey’s deep-brown gaze but she just shakes her head. “It was… it all got too much, Lady Amdirlain. My heart was pounding in the catacombs. When Klipyl told me Ståle died, it was just all too much; I’d known him for years, and I yelled at him, but now he’s dead.”
Amdirlain wondered at her life, given what she’d endured didn’t warrant a mention, but her own churning emotions warned her against delving into that question with Soul Sight.
She was grabbing for words, but Klipyl spoke up ahead of her. “Ståle betrayed you by pushing us into that teleport trap. Would he be sad if he’d pushed us into a lethal trap? If he’d let me get everyone outside the trap wouldn’t have triggered. He didn’t push me directly, he pushed you into me. Remember, he tried to kill us both.”
“People do things they might regret later when they’re afraid,” Frey argued and wrapped her arms around herself to keep her clothing together.
Amdirlain almost smacked herself but forced the calmness to stay on her face. “My apologies Frey, I should have asked. Do you have clothes, or did you need some created?”
“Only whatever Klipyl’s scavenged from the Wizard that captured me and the others,” Frey replied. “We need to find what happened to the girls, Klipyl.”
Frey rolled her eyes in frustration, but Amdirlain interrupted her response.
“One thing at a time,” said Amdirlain. “Would you stand a moment?”
Frey just looked at her curiously but stood only to find clothing draping itself across her, and following Amdirlain’s instructions when she told her to lift one foot and then the other. Clothing and boots, finer than she’d ever possessed, had Frey stroking fingers across the material, and Amdirlain quickly separated herself.
“Where is this place, Lady Amdirlain?” asked Frey.
“We’re in the Outlands, I have my Domain a distance from here,” Amdirlain replied, and noted the slightly settling effect the clothes had on Frey’s emotions. “I’ll ask someone to come to talk to you, about the girls and what happened.”
Amdirlain sent a message and image of their location to Solveiga, across the Oath link. “Do you have time to speak to Frey? She’s been through a lot and I hope you can help her.”
Solveiga response was immediate, she appeared amongst the trees’ in Amdirlain’s line of sight—her wings carefully folded behind her.
“Frey, I’d like you to meet Solveiga,” Amdirlain said calmly and motioned towards the Angel.
Their relative position kept Amdirlain from seeing Frey’s face, but the moment she turned to see Solveiga her posture showed disbelief.
“Would you share the details of what happened with her, and what you know of the girls?” Amdirlain continued and watched Frey nod jerkily and hesitantly walk towards Solveiga.
It was only when Solveiga clasped hands with her and drew her into a hug that Amdirlain turned her attention to Klipyl.
“How is it you came to worship me, Klipyl?”
“I took your advice with the inferno, and focused on wanting my will to be stronger. On emerging the classes offered to me had changed; I took the Priest Class and I found out what you’d been hiding. I learnt enough to make a divine focus, but I didn’t know your symbol, so I carved one that matched how I felt,” explained Klipyl.
Mention of it attracted Amdirlain attention to it again. The interlocking coil of snakes looked like a torc with cracks struck through in multiple places. “You just made up a symbol? I’m curious, how does a broken torc represent me to you?”
“They made us wear them in the harem where I was born. You’d given me that same freedom I’d gained when my first Ascending took me from it, broken free of its pretty bindings. Later I felt a split, one way my Faith stayed with the name Viper, the other used the name Eakcï. Viper felt similar to how I’d been, while Eakcï promised it would be a harder journey. Getting trapped again was completely out of the question.”
Amdirlain nodded remembering the number of shards Klipyl had built up above what she’d needed. “That’s an understandable choice, given how long you were blocked from Ascending. What happened then?”
“The next time I channelled a Blessing, the words sounded how I’d imagined Celestial, and burnt my lips. I fled the Hollow straight away, hightailed it to a broker I knew, and they passed my name along to a Wizard wanting a companion. For obvious reasons, I didn’t even know you’d changed your name until after they took Frey captive.”
Amdirlain tilted her head a moment and remembered the notification she’d received. “Of course, Demons don’t dream. What was your involvement with the Wizard?”
“He wanted eye candy and a dangerous fuck toy to keep his guards in line, I spent a lot of time simpering and listening. He was so angry when a batch of prisoners escaped, but he didn’t figure it all out. Never thought to ask why a demoness would help Mortals. It must have just been an accident amid the orgy. Still, he locked down the Portal they’d activated to flee and he restricted me to his quarters when Frey’s group was caught.”
“What happened then?”
“He enjoyed kissing me, and I’d been told not to use any of my powers against him, nor attack him. I told him I wasn’t in the mood to fuck. Is it my fault I had applied a contact poison to my cunt and lips if he didn’t ask? After he was done with the frothing and twitching, I took out the guards, before I freed the prisoners. Frey’s friend pushed her into me on the way out, and we went through a teleport trap. I’d intended to thoroughly loot his things after the prisoners were free but fortunately had grabbed some odds and ends. One had some Priest runes on it that Frey used to call your Lantern Archon.”
“You’re a Priest of mine, but I can’t feel your Oath,” Amdirlain said, trying to pick a path out within her swirling thoughts. “Will you swear service again?”
“I swear to serve you, Lady Amdirlain,” Klipyl declared without hesitation.
The moment she spoke, the feeling of her Oath link became clear among the Celestials, its energy starkly standing out.
“Your Pact with Frey is lacing her Soul with corruption. Is there any reason you did this to another Priestess?”
“I gave her a choice. It’s just, I can’t risk going back to the Abyss. I need to stay on the Material Plane, unsummonable. Others heard me using a Blessing,” admitted Klipyl.
“Going back to the Abyss wasn’t what I had in mind. Sidero doesn’t have the means to send me information, but she’ll be investigating a situation on the Material Plane. I’d appreciate it if you’d accompany her to send me updates. There is another option, a planet where we’re fighting undead. Your choice which one you go to,” said Amdirlain and noted the frown that appeared.
“My choice, but I can’t stay in the Ten Kingdoms helping Frey?” asked Klipyl, her choice of words intriguing.
Amdirlain paused for a moment and bit back the retort that came up. “Do you truly want to help her? That Pact between you will make things worse for her. The Abyssal energies will twist what she’s endured and use it to torment her.”
“If I’m not in a Pact they’ll be able to get someone to summon me,” sighed Klipyl.
“That sounds like you’re using Frey to protect yourself,” observed Amdirlain.
Klipyl glanced at Frey and closed her eyes when she turned back. “What else can I do? I’ve no clue how to change my name. Frey needs someone to watch her back, someone better than Ståle. Along with someone to clean things up with the Adventurers’ Guild.”
“A name change, and someone to back up Frey. The Adventurers’ Guild is a possibility. Anything else?”
“I could really use a decent fuck, that Wizard certainly didn’t have magic in his staff.”
“That one you’ll need to figure out on your own,” Amdirlain said and disregarded Sidero’s snickers.
“Can you follow orders, Klipyl?” asked Sidero once she’d calmed.
“If they’ll not get me destroyed, I’m open to working with you. I’ve never heard of a Kyton with red chains before,” Klipyl said and pulled a face. “I’m not sure about a name change though.”
“Too late,” Sidero replied. “I just fixed your name, but I’ll call you Klipyl for short.”
Amdirlain checked with Analysis and groaned. “Klipyl-chan, seriously?”
“Klipyl-chan?” laughed Klipyl, blinking she tilted her head towards Sidero. “It was that easy for you. What do I owe you?”
“You don’t owe us anything,” Amdirlain spoke up quickly and fixed Sidero with a reproachful look.
Soul Sight showed the link between Klipyl and Frey break without further prompting; the energy in the threads across Frey’s Soul lessened but didn’t fade completely.
“Why don’t we discuss working together? Let Amdirlain speak with Frey and-”, suggested Sidero.
Amdirlain saw Solveiga and Frey intently talking among the trees. “No, I-, Solveiga should have more time. First, feel for the Oath link. Try to send me words and an image. While you talk to Sidero I’ll move away, and eventually we’ll test it across Planes.”
“What do you want me to say?” Klipyl’s question touched directly on Amdirlain’s mind and she nodded.
“Good, I heard your question. I’ll start moving about and give you all time to talk. If I need to be back sooner, message me that way, or ask Solveiga to send me a message if I don’t respond.”
Teleport placed her at the limit of her vision, and another message from Klipyl brushed against her mind. While Flight and Teleport carried her onwards, Amdirlain tried to let the wind across her face carry some of her pain away.
Comments
Kale Daley
I hope she takes the time she needs. Might also be time to open up a few of those boxes in her mindscape.
