Abyssal Road Trip - 136 - How's it supposed to feel (Patreon)

“Was it one of your servants that you sent through earlier, Amdirlain?” Vāriyāka asked, not having moved to leave with the council.

“No, that was Torm; you’ve not met him. He’s a guardian of Týr; I met him years ago, protecting a senior servant on another world,” explained Amdirlain, frowning as the translation twisted her explanation slightly.

Týr’s response to her request for Wizards to help teach arrived not long after in an impressive style. A baker’s dozen of Valkyrie snapped into existence above the valley and glided her way. Analysis confirmed that all had possessed at least one Wizard class during their Class progression. They possessed a range of hair colours under the Celestial energy radiating off them, from ash-blond to deep red. Their power made them the golden-haired, pale-skinned beauties of legends, particularly in breastplates and greaves made from golden Celestial-steel.

At the front of their formation, the Valkyrie, Svenja, provided Analysis little beyond her name and Classes as she stepped forward to greet Amdirlain. “Lady Amdirlain, I’m glad we met outside your Domain so I might greet you properly.”

“You lot enjoy smacking me with that title, don’t you?” grumbled Amdirlain, and good-natured laughter came from the gathered Valkyries.

Svenja smiled at Amdirlain while the others settled. “Many lay claim to titles only for their actions to degrade any respect one should feel. We find it fitting to pay respect to one who doesn’t wish a title but who spends themselves for the benefit of the innocent and those redeemable.”

“How do you wish to go about teaching the Erakkö?” asked Amdirlain, forcing past her surprise at the answer.

When Amdirlain jumped right to the chase, Svenja gave a businesslike nod, and responded in the Erakkö’s language. “With your permission, it is best to go to them rather than having them come through the Gate. We’ve all experienced passing among Mortals before, though normally only the Norse, so adjusting to the new customs and laws will be interesting. We all possess Metal Affinity, so we’ll be able to start them with those Spell lists. Afterwards, we can organise times for you to expand their Affinities or just take them through the normal process of gaining them.”

At her words, the Valkyrie all suddenly matched the Erakkö in appearance. Their golden armour shifted form and hue to appear as brightly polished steel.

Without so much as a pause as her form changed, Svenja continued. “There is also the matter of the Dao. I have word that Torm found the outpost along with the two closest villages stripped of inhabitants. The pass itself still has its garrison intact, and the closest villagers are alert but unharmed at this point. He’s still exploring the region to determine the extent of their depredations.”

“Vāriyāka, would you object to them coming through to your world to teach?” asked Amdirlain.

“I certainly don’t believe there would be objections, but I’m biased since I require a teacher myself after all. I know many that would be happy to answer any questions they might have,” Vāriyāka replied before rising. Stepping quickly to the Gate, he spoke to the guards on the other side and waved them through.

“We can all Planar Shift or open Gates, so if there is need of a meeting, arrangements can be made,” offered Svenja, after gesturing to the others to move. “It would be safer than leaving a Gate open so close to your Domain. It is but an offer. Simply close the Gate if you wish us to take that approach.”

When the Valkyrie all had passed through, Amdirlain took the hint and closed Ebusuku’s Gate.

Teleport placed her back at the riverbank by the swing, and a surge of emotions from Farhad’s dwelling made her blush. Her Domain made her aware of the wards in place holding the noise within, but they didn’t stop her awareness of the area. Fortunately, it was only emotional, but that still made her face flame with their intensity.

I can’t even tell them to get a room. If I mention it to Ebusuku, I bet she’ll laugh her arse off.

Concentrating on the Domain’s wellspring, Amdirlain let their celebrations fade into the background, and drew on the energy inside herself. The moment her concentration touched the wellspring, the energy within her flooded into it and expanded her Domain. Though she kept back some Mana, and Ki, the force of it still cascaded through the Domain’s boundary, pushing it far along the valley’s terrain. The massive surge left inhabitants blinking at the energy that passed around them. Amdirlain noted with amusement she’d disrupted a particular celebration.

Does that count as cock blocking? Nah, they’ve been at it a while.

Before Ebusuku could protest the disruption in their celebrations, Amdirlain shifted away.

* * *

Ebusuku’s going to be annoyed.

The Song echoed across the Grotto stronger than her previous visit. Each musical note wove through the crystal spires stretched out across the floor, amplified at each step. As the sound’s wavefront reached the last of the spires they projected it outwards holding the tainted presence of Ternòx at bay. Amdirlain’s hidden eyes saw the first three arrive and drift towards her, but she didn’t move in response. It pleased her they’d responded so quickly since she’d only just finished spending the last of the messages. There was the barest sound of brushing against stone as Sírdhem sat on the ledge’s edge beside her.

Beside Sírdhem, Fainil shifted about with gliding motions, dancing in time with the music. Her white hair had been short before but now was a single braid it reached mid-back and swayed as if a conductor’s baton directing the music. Their third was Calithil, her chosen name simply meant moonlight. Hair the silvery blue hue of moonlight framed her wistful features as she looked down across the Grotto. A faint smile didn’t break the melancholy mood conveyed by her expression. Eyes that mirrored her hair colour drifted closed as she focused on the beauty of the Song.

[Name: Sírdhem

Species: Greater Succubus

Class: Wizard / Hyanda / Primordial Scout / Harbinger

Level: 23 (MAX) / 16 / 16 / 16 / 16

Health: 9,384

Defence: 1078

Magic: 106

Mana: 17,862

Melee Attack Power: 258

Combat Skills: Bite [G] (7), Bow-Legend [S] (179), Claws [G] (11), Sword-Saint [G] (418), Tail Strike [S] (8), Throwing [S] (3). Spell Lists: Multiple. Affinities: All

Details: Sírdhem is native to the Plane Ijmti. A former follower of Lady Balnérith, the Sisterhood of Blood considers her a rogue, to be destroyed on sight. Currently sworn to the service of Lady Amdirlain.]

The last of them arrived only ten minutes after Sírdhem’s trio had appeared, their armour splashed with Demonic blood. Aside from the stains, their armour was almost as pristine as when she’d made it. The one she’d purged classes from had recovered a noticeable amount of grace but seemed to drift along.

Sírdhem glanced at the last of the arriving Succubi, and nodded respectfully. “Lady Amdirlain, what did you need us to assist you with?”

“It will distract a bit from your work here in Ternòx, but it will hopefully speed up recovering your Class levels,” Amdirlain said, glancing between them. “Have any of you had to deal with the Dao?”

“Unfortunately, she provided me to one of their Lords as a companion for favours,” growled Fainil, her cheerful smile disappearing in a rush of anger. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m going to rescue slaves; given the Dao’s numbers, I wondered if I could get a hand,” replied Amdirlain, concerned at the continued heat in Fainil’s gaze.

“We didn’t Sing them into existence; we made many evil things, but their ancestors came from the old world,” Calithil said, her tone defensive. “There are many of them, but there are more Demons we could be killing. How will this speed up regaining our levels?”

“It seems Celestials that fight with me in a party gain progress faster, even afterwards. I’m hoping that it will apply to you as well. We’ve already attacked one of their mines, pretending it was a Demon attack. So I wanted to hit another location together,” answered Amdirlain.

“I know lots of their townships from when I used to travel with him,” Fainil replied. “I’ll go. Do you want them to think a Demon Lord is going for them? We could wear Succubus form and make them sweat. Or use the uniform form and let the Sisterhood take the blame.”

“If it’s a chance to get us ready to hurt Balnérith faster, I’m in.”

Amdirlain missed who it was that had spoken up from among the gathering, but most nodded their agreement. Those who didn’t immediately still looked interested.

“Could we look to hunt Lord Lozenge’s estates?” asked Fainil. “He might not be alive, but some heirs might still hold them. I’d like to dismember his holdings, especially if his family line still has them in their possession. Even if they don’t, the locations provide a list of places to hit.”

Amdirlain caught the undiminished heat still in Fainil and answered carefully. “If you know them, we can hit some of them at least.”

“I know their names and where they were, but I’ll have to scry to check each,” responded Fainil. “The Dao don’t like the appearance of things changing, so they might just have expanded the caverns.”

“Aside from the slaves being freed, is there anything, in particular, you want to achieve?” Sírdhem asked.

The rueful wince the question received from Amdirlain got Sírdhem’s attention, and she motioned Amdirlain to spill. “I’m told I use too much brute force in my fighting style. I need to work on using finesse and being subtle.”

“Well, I’m sure we can help you with that cousin,” Sírdhem replied merrily.

“Does anyone want to risk the Titan’s trial to break free of being a Succubus now?” asked Amdirlain. At her question, the group froze.

“What?” Calithil stuttered as she tried to still the trembling in her limbs.

“Well, I could promote you in other ways, but to keep your memories, you’d need to undertake the trial,” replied Amdirlain.

“No,” Calithil snapped. “I made my bed, and I need to prove I deserve to leave this place.

The nod from Fainil was just as firm, and when Amdirlain caught her gaze, she shrugged reluctantly. “I don’t want to leave until they’re all free, then I might deserve it.”

“I’m never leaving.”

Sírdhem’s simple words caught the attention of all the group, and Amdirlain looked at her in concern.

“I’m not! There are so many trapped here, not just the Lómë. Fainil’s angry at the Dao because they sold slaves to Balnérith, whose Souls she than sold on. I know Fainil’s services were part of the payment, she had no other part in the arrangements, but she blames herself. We’ll get the Lómë out, but if I stay, I can rescue others,” Sírdhem said, waving Fainil’s objections away

“Why would you want to do that forever?” asked Calithil.

“Maybe it won’t be forever, but I want a reason to not hate myself,” Sírdhem replied. “Millions of our relatives currently are stuck because we bought into a lie. It might well take forever before I make amends for the part I played.”

“I think she’s right, but it won’t stop me from trying to do the same. “

The voice was the same as earlier, but this time Amdirlain spotted her. Her hair was the sullen red of dying embers and now cut far shorter than when Amdirlain had renamed her. Fine Elven features were an exquisite frame for dark blue eyes that didn’t reflect the light, that gave her a lascivious gaze. The deep pools make it possible to fall into her gaze forever, dreaming of her rich full lips. Among their varying forms, she possessed one of the more voluptuous shapes with generous curves. Despite her sensual form, Nûr’s name had a simple meaning that followed Sírdhem’s theme. Where Sírdhem’s name meant ‘river of sadness’, Nûr’s simply meant sad from an older era of names.

Name selection in the group was a near-even split between those chosen from their Lómë heritage and those focused on the outcome of their misplaced trust. Names that implied—or explicitly contained—meanings of sorrow, sadness, and amends were the most common among the second group, though there was an exception. As if Amdirlain’s recollection of her name prompted her, she spoke up.

“You will all leave one day,” Erwarth declared firmly from the back of the group. Her name had struck Amdirlain almost as a split point between the groups. It was a traditional name, and it didn’t focus on what they’d brought down upon the Lómë, but on the act. The name she’d taken was traditionally a title, one they gave to a special type of prisoner—Erwarth meant betrayer.

Though she had similarly delicate Elven features to others, her skin wasn’t ivory but the colour of dried blood, and coal-black eyes showed no whites. Her wings weren’t the black-feathered wings the others possessed, but bare white-bone arches. When Amdirlain had purged Erwarth’s classes she had simply nodded her acceptance, not bent in agony.

[Name: Erwarth

Species: Greater Succubus

Class: Wizard / Harbinger / Priest / Paragon

Level: 23 (MAX) / 17 / 16 / 16 / 16

Health: 6,508

Defence: 1,215

Ki: 266

Magic: 123

Mana: 21,983

Melee Attack Power: 194

Combat Skills: Bow-Lord [G] (212), Silent Vortex [G] (418), Sword-Lord [G] (489), Throwing [S] (289). Spell Lists: Multiple. Affinities: All

Details: Erwarth is a native to the Plane Ijmti. A former follower of Lady Balnérith, the Sisterhood of Blood consider her a rogue to be destroyed on sight. She is a Priest sworn to the service of Lady Amdirlain.]

[Paragon:

Outsiders dedicated to a Power can choose to focus on an aspect of it. The Paragon Class for Lady Amdirlain evolves her servants’ unarmed combat to match her Monk fighting technique. It also makes adjustments to their natural Powers to increase their hand to hand fighting abilities.

]

Silent Vortex, is it an evolved form of Silent Storm? She’s got Ki but I’ll need to teach her how to concentrate it.

“As you say,” agreed Calithil.

“That aside, is everyone up for teaching the Dao a lesson for their slave trade?” asked Amdirlain.

A frown flickered across Calithil’s face for a moment, and though she pushed it aside she spoke up. “We’re not just releasing them all, are we? I mean, yes, the Dao take enjoyment in inflicting misery and having power over others, but so do some species they use as slaves. Do we just free them?”

“Nothing like that gets to go free,” Amdirlain declared in a steel tone and Calithil nodded in relief. “I’ll check them with Soul Sight or Telepathy before we send them on their way. Those we encounter we’ll give a clean death rather than set them free to hurt others.”

Nûr fixed Amdirlain with a look of consideration. “You want to dispense merciless mercy?”

“A new dawn, it seems,” Erwarth replied. “The Titan’s Executioner is once again amongst us. It shall be as you say, Lady of the Dawn.”

“NO!” squealed Fainil excitedly.

“How did I not see it?!” groaned Sírdhem.

The chatter among the group quickly escalated, and Amdirlain only picked out parts of the conversations.

“The Eldest… Did any of us pick her?... Who gets the betting pool?.. Didn’t you… No, I said Maendes, not…”

Erwarth’s sharp whistle brought silence. “Don’t we have some Dao to kill rather than gossip?”

“That’s only because you didn’t bet, Erwarth,” retorted Calithil.

“There, now you know I’m doubly wise compared to the rest of you. I suggest Amdirlain take the entire prize to dispense as she determines,” Erwarth replied, and motioned to Nûr. “Do you still have the goods?”

“Hold on to them, Nûr,” Amdirlain said, waving her to stay sitting as she shifted position to stand. “If they are things that won’t attract attention outside the Abyss, we can use them to help those we free.”

“Did you have a place you wanted to start, Lady Amdirlain?” asked Calithil.

Amdirlain groaned and fixed Calithil with an unhappy look. “My name is Amdirlain, that’s all you need to use.”

“Of course, Lady Amdirlain,” Calithil replied. “I would give you far more honours than that. Please let us refer to you that way. When we saw you die fighting Leviathan, I thought all hope was lost then. I’m glad to see you returned even if you don’t possess your memories.”

“What was I like when fighting?” Amdirlain asked, curiosity lighting up her face.

“You were constantly in motion, with the notes of a blue star around your sword. Your handling of Song and blade together meant little could stand in your path,” Sírdhem replied. “Though you tended towards using Song before the fighting.”

“Sounds like I’ve always had an issue with using brute force,” Amdirlain muttered, and Sírdhem’s suddenly calm face spoke volumes. “Why did you call me the Titan’s Executioner, Erwarth?”

“Many considered it your title after you killed the Gold Elves that were purging their world of non-Elves,” replied Erwarth with a shrug. “That the Anar King’s Chorus had Sung them into existence on their own lent it more weight. The fact your destruction of them also destroyed an Elven Pantheon that had grown from their homage was the sweetest of irony. King Eärtar had kept them in ignorance of the Courts, whom the Titan had invited when we’d first Sung species in our image.”

What?

The chatter among the succubi faded out of Amdirlain hearing for a moment, as she breathed her question. “I did what?”

“Do you not remember anything? Not even the Brands?” asked Erwarth, her tone incredulous. “I would have thought you’d have some memories of those. They were bound into your Soul by Song. My last life started well after the events, but I studied the records; I even listened to the journal crystals you had left in the royal archives. They were insightful about why the Queen convinced the King to commute your execution.”

“But don’t you regain all your memories?” asked Amdirlain, trying to make sense of the feelings churning around in her. Sorrow, guilt, resolution; for moment, constellations from her mindscape intruding into life before settling away again.

“Recovered memories aren’t absolute. If they were perfect, we’d be the same person over again,” Erwarth replied. “We can remember key events, but sometimes we don’t remember all the subtle things, and we only ever can remember what we knew; not what others didn’t tell us.”

“It was a race of Elves I wiped out.”

The edged whisper slipped from Amdirlain’s lips even as the others went still as her shock won.

A surprised expression slipped from Erwarth’s face, replaced by a hardness that turned black eyes into ice. “Why does it surprise you we can sing imperfect things into existence? The King’s Chorus Sang them into existence, arrogant that they could improve a stable slow-growing world. They didn’t even seek a single Lómë Glinnel to balance their Song.”

“Was that when I earn the brands that became the Markings of Royal Shame?” asked Amdirlain.

Erwarth nodded firmly, her gaze locked on Amdirlain. “So you know something of them.”

“Initially, only what a friend found written in a journal by an Elven survivor on Mélamar, they called them the Markings of Royal Shame. Then a Dragon told me a story of their origins and they believe they started as condemned prisoner marks,” explained Amdirlain.

“That’s true, but you didn’t have any sign of them before and still don’t,” said Calithil, glancing at Amdirlain’s hands. “What promoted the seeking of their meanings?”

“I fought the Demonic aspect of my form and woke up in a new shape. It had feathered wings like most of you, but I looked like a golden-bronze-skinned Elf and the Markings were present but mostly black,” explained Amdirlain. At Calithil’s continued frown, she let the tendrils show on her hands, but when she caused them to vanish again, Calithil’s eyes widened.

“You shouldn’t be able to hide them,” Calithil said, motioning towards Amdirlain’s hand. “Even concealment spells shouldn’t be able to hide them away if your Soul remembered them enough to present them on flesh at all.”

“You had mentioned conflict with your form, but it’s wise to keep things close to your chest. We’ve all had our own battles with the Demons that enfolded us. We won to a degree at least. I believe those that didn’t flee Balnérith lost, whether it means they’re trapped or entirely consumed, I’ve no way to say,” Erwarth stated flatly.

The thought of having lost to Viper spiked memories of their battle and the pain she’d inflicted on Amdirlain.

“How much progress are you making here? Is there anything that needs to be finished soon?” asked Amdirlain, changing the subject.

“We’ve all been working around Grottos we knew about, luring Nox close to them before we kill them,” replied Fainil. “Sírdhem’s gotten over two thousand kills of the Nox Echoes so far alone, so together we’ve freed lots. The Grottos have gone through a large expansion. “

“Two thousand kills,” murmured Amdirlain, working through the memory of combat summaries. “Yeah, you progress slower than I do. For four classes at that many kills it would have set me at level thirty, but Sírdhem’s level sixteen in each.”

“That’s disturbing, that you can see my levels without an imprint,” remarked Sírdhem, wrapping arms across her chest as if covering herself; only for a coy look to destroy the attempt at playing shy.

* * *

The reddish-black energy Tesfa’s memories had shown rippled like a heat mirage along a section of wall. Across the cavern’s floor was a sprawling Dao palace grown seamlessly from the stone. The fortifications that existed between its compound and the Gate seemed more for channelling those incoming rather than for protection. Passages from the Gate lead to stone barred holding pens erected with brutal disregard for decency. Scores of naked Erakkö stood in unmoving lines within them, collars around their necks.

Amdirlain kept her clairvoyance moving—skipping it about compound in order to make it hard to detect even if they could watch for Psi energy. A mental link she’d formed with the succubi, allowing each to see what Clairvoyance showed her. Each building grew seamlessly from the Cavern’s floor and was fashioned in a decorative style. Their two barracks weren’t bunk rooms, but structures that held hundreds of variously sized individual rooms. The Dao’s quarters from the highest to the lowest were comfortable, with at least one piece of lavish furnishing in the lowest-ranked Dao’s room.

“If you truly wish to work on being subtle, handle it as a stealth suppression sweep. Work building to building, killing everyone inside as quietly as possible. We take wards apart to get through, but priority is not triggering any alerts,”

“We’ve nineteen groups to work with. One building at a time and Lady Amdirlain accompanies a new group each time? Or do all groups hit a separate building at the same time?” asked Calithil.

Amdirlain gritted her teeth but kept from broadcasting anything through the link.

“I’d have each group monitor the building they’ll accompany you with. If trouble stirs, they can hit hard all at once. But let’s hold off as we don’t know how much time we’ll require for the change to occur,” Erwarth suggested, directing her input to Amdirlain.

“As long as someone is ready to move to protect the prisoners,” Amdirlain said, releasing her far-seeing effect.

A hand among the others raised, even as Fainil thoughts beckoned for attention. “I’ll offer our group to watch the pens. If any Dao go near them, we’ll take them out.”

“Maybe double groups with yourself then Lady Amdirlain. Gives us seven actives in each building, with the extra groups watching that everything stays locked down. The groups outside will watch for any movement, and can alert you through the link since their wards don’t handle Psi,” offered Erwarth at the thoughtful look on Amdirlain’s face. “Once everyone’s been through a building, Fainil’s group can take a turn, then we repeat until done.”

“Let’s go that way,” acknowledged Amdirlain. “Once we get the prisoners home, the next location we can handle loudly and make them think Demons are on the warpath.”

“Or we could just keep practicing subtle until you stop using brute force at every chance,” chided Erwarth. “Now about some rules to ensure you practice finesse.”