Abyssal Road Trip - 309 - Bright lights bigger city (Patreon)

Amdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Qil Tris

Though the cashier at the steps tried to talk Amdirlain into a more expensive option, she took the cheapest ticket for the next trip and headed up. Taking the stairs to the platform on the ticket, she found herself on a stone platform of more hexagonal blocks. They’d marked carriage numbers along the platform’s edge, and Amdirlain followed her ticket.

As the skyline carriages glided towards the platform, Amdirlain took in the Catfolk around her. People with different attire and fur colouration stretched the platform’s length. Some with neat attire had the air of those travelling on business, and larger groups with luggage appeared to be travelling families. Although the dark blue fur Amdirlain had picked was common, there were various oranges and tawny-furred individuals as well. Their clothes ranged from well-worn garments to a female in shimmering-cloth robes with silver thread runes.

As she arrived at the spot shown on her ticket, Amdirlain joined a group at the furthest end from the well-dressed folk.

When the carriage pulled to a stop, a few dozen people arose from the tightly packed seats within, and proceed to the only door at the carriage’s rear. As they moved to the end with the doors, they stretched out stiffness while waiting for a male attendee to pass their luggage from a rack against the back wall. Whatever carriage Yilsten had been in, it hadn’t been the cheap seats.

Once the arrivals departed, he unlocked a cover to press a rune near the rack, and the seats reversed their facing. Only after he relocked it did he signal the waiting passengers to enter. “All luggage needs to be stored in racks. Any entertainment materials for the trip, please keep with you.”

Amdirlain handed over her travel pack to the attendee and moved into the main carriage area. A glance at the seat numbers and she identified her place in the now lead row of the carriage. The carriage door’s support took up a chuck of foot space from the window seat, but her ticket was the aisle.

As she moved to sit in the aisle seat allocated by her ticket, a male Catfolk moved up behind her and sighed. “Hey, miss. Can I get the aisle?”

Amdirlain played her part, looked over her shoulder, and cranked her head back. Though the Catfolk wasn’t bulky, he was lean and forty centimetres taller, with dark blue fur and a honey-gold gaze.

“Yeah, I’m sure you wouldn’t fit in the window seat,” agreed Amdirlain. Giving his height another glance, she slipped into the problem seat and, though cramped, at least it had a comfortable cushion. “Heck, I don’t know if you’ll fit in my seat.”

I thought Sydney’s old red rattler trains were bad for awkward seats. Wonder if they made all the frames the same, and management said to add another row in the cheap one? It’d fit.

“I was told each seat allowed plenty of legroom,” grumbled the male.

“That’s what I heard as well. Do you think maybe they were talking about the more expensive seats? I think maybe they get food served on the trip.”

Upon hearing Amdirlain’s comment, the attendee wrote a note and tucked it away.

The male glanced along the length of the aisle. “Looks like most seats vary between yours and mine for allowed space. Must be a different layout in the other carriages. Do you see the fancy types putting up with being cramped?”

Amdirlain shook her head, and the male sat down beside her. Before she could say anything further, he put his head back against the headrest. Within a breath he was asleep. As everyone else settled into their seats, Amdirlain closed her eyes and pretended to do the same.

The countryside passed by in a blur, with the skyline only halting at two stops along the way. Despite the minimal stops, they’d filled her carriage before they got to the second. The attendant eventually announced they were coming to Osaphis’ station, requesting all to stay seated until advised.

The window seat allowed Amdirlain to see the hexagonal towers they were moving towards and, in the distance, she felt a hum of distortion. Beneath them, she could see vehicles and pedestrians moving along the city streets in an almost earth-like scene. The forced gaps between the building fronts eased the gloom from the consistent grey stone. At street level, she could see some shop fronts had filigree decorations showing their street number and shop name. As with the bypass, the vehicles that moved along the streets varied, and it seemed mass production wasn’t a thing.

Amdirlain heard a hiss of distortion to the northwest as they got deeper into the city. Between the source and her were thousands of wards, some stronger than many she’d encountered in the Abyss.

If I tell Ebusuku or Erwarth about this, they’ll tease me about needing subtlety. The first step is getting as close as possible to the distortion.

The male stirred at the next announcement, and Amdirlain didn’t have to prompt him to stand. “Thanks again.”

Alighting was simple, and the attendee claimed Amdirlain’s ticket after handing over her pack. The exit from the platform took them into a skyscraper, and from there, they were ushered out through one-way barriers. Beyond the station’s perimeter they spilled onto a mezzanine level of a shopping centre. A steel railing guided them towards the stairs and provided a view of three levels of shops that wrapped around the skyscraper’s exterior. The shop fronts inside the tower were wide arches, with display tables within showing various goods.

Slipping through a crowd of people hurrying to the skyline’s entry, Amdirlain descended a spiral case that ran to ground level. On the final turn, some unpleasant songs warned her of dubious individuals ahead.

When she stepped off at the base, the sleazy smile on the male’s face was all the warning Amdirlain needed. His gaze flickered across her attire, not lingering on the partly concealed throwing knives Amdirlain carried before he focused on her bag. “New to the city, miss? Would you like a guide to a nomad shelter or your accommodation?”

“No,” snapped Amdirlain, and she faked going one way, only to step right past him on the other side. Cradling her travel pack off in front of her, Amdirlain picked up the pace and deliberately let her sturdy boots clack on the lobby floor.

She spotted a revolving door through the crowd and let him see her heading for it. A step took her behind a couple of burly Catfolk carrying their purchases slung over their shoulders. With his view of her obstructed, she had hunched slightly lower as if unwell and moved alongside a group of ladies. Circling past them, she slipped out a side entrance before them.

[Stealth [M] (41->42)]

Seized by a mental grip, the Con Artist straightened, and all thoughts of his target disappeared. The urge to confess all his crimes and start anew had him wandering away to seek a law keeper.

With him dealt with, Amdirlain moved on and took in the Class levels among those she passed. While some had barely a dozen levels to their name, a few could have been levelling a Tier 4 or 5 Prestige Class—except they hadn’t taken them. None of them had Class names she’d seen in other places; rather, they were modern themed like Soldier, Persuader, Geomancer, Arcane Chemist, and more.

Even those with classes like Clerk or Sales Representative possessed a combat Class. There was nothing like the Warrior or Thug she’d seen on Vehtë and in the Abyss. Rather, classes like Sharpshooter and the evolved base Class Undead Slayer were the most frequent combat classes.

The person with the highest level she’d seen so far had a Solider Class and an assortment of others. Despite the modern setting, being armed and carrying weapons in plain sight was common. The lowest-level Clerk Amdirlain saw had an energy projector on their hip, yet melee weapons weren’t uncommon.

Despite checking the situation with the Catfolk, Amdirlain remained focused on locating the distortion. As she crossed city blocks, there were lesser hisses of static coming and going from the location that had attracted her attention. She caught some hosts of the distortion heading roughly towards her and shifted blocks to intercept the first.

A group of vehicles stopped down the street from her in front of a large building decorated with the emblem the law keepers had worn. Their stop matched the timing of the closest presence coming to a halt. Amdirlain walked forward and casually studied the individuals exiting the vehicles. When the individual hosting the unsettling energies slipped from their vehicle, the effect Resonance showed still wasn’t apparent in True Sight. Having used Analysis directly on songs before, Amdirlain tried it on the distortion.

[Eldritch Manipulator

{Translation errors galore. I can’t tell you much about this Eldritch; its pure thought and madness. Available approximations follow:}

Primordial Tier: 1

Health: 3,950

Psi: 72,924

Note: A cute little mite, this parasitic entity feeds off the emotional distress of its host and those around it. Its psionic abilities allowed it to increase stressed states to the point of inflicting mental injury. They are drawn into realms by greater Eldritch beings to spread Far Chaos-attuned madnesses among the populace.

Analysis [S] (34->35)]

It had been a long time since she’d struck at the training targets at the monastery, but guided by the entity’s song, Amdirlain sought to turn the tables. A Mental Disruption technique staggered the male Catfolk it was hooked into, buying her time with him and his passenger unprotected by wards. As the uniformed male slumped to his knees, those closest to him caught him and the entity fed from the confusion and spike of worry.

Given the alien mindset of the Eldritch critter, Amdirlain ignored options that would twist a mind into madness and tried psychic brute force instead. The Psychic Crush technique slipped into its feeding mind and, feeling it catch, Amdirlain unloaded with a surge of mental energy. Her mental attack closed a vice-like grip around its being. Though she didn’t understand its mental pathways, the twisting chaos within it exploded like shattered glass.

With the entity’s capacity far overloaded, death was something the Far Chaos and the realm’s rules had in common. Its hiss snapped out, and Amdirlain heard the entity’s remains enfolded and shunted from the realm. On the heels of its disappearance, the afflicted male started to convulse, eliciting a yowl of surprise from the pair that had supported him.

Orders from another vehicle caught their attention. One of the other passengers raced inside for medical aid, and the pair quickly braced and lowered the stricken individual to the ground.

When a grizzled-looking Catfolk in a law keeper’s uniform hopped from another vehicle, he snapped more orders and looked around from reflex. His glance let Amdirlain glimpse the metal orbs in his eye sockets. Those weren’t his only arcane prosthesis—his legs and right forearm were articulated pieces of Artificer artistry.

When his gaze lingered on her, Amdirlain reinforced her auras’ concealment and projected a concerned innocent vibe that satisfied him enough to turn to the downed individual. Despite his artificial limbs, he moved gracefully towards the trio, and Amdirlain checked him with Analysis.

He possessed a Tier 7 Prestige Class that seemed morbidly named, and Amdirlain checked it from curiosity.

[Grave Delver:

Details: Getting any variant of this Tier 7 Prestige Class requires the following deeds: reaching the lowest chambers of the Gods’ Grave while resisting the areas’ miasma and contributing significantly to a Spawning Abomination’s destruction.]

[Spawning Abomination:

Details: These entities form from the rage and hate left behind by one of the rejected pantheons. They form in subterranean regions erroneously called the Gods’ Grave by the locals. Once the energy reaches a critical mass, it unleashes thousands of incorporeal beings capable of causing an undead state.

Note: The vindictive pantheon’s dying blight causes these to form close to population centres. The larger the centre, the greater the likelihood it will trigger a formation. Souls crossing out of the Material Plane on their way to Judgement empower the remnants’ propagation.]

With gods that would leave something like that behind, no wonder they killed off their worshipers. That explains all the wards within the buildings’ frameworks.

With more law keepers coming from the building they were in front of, Amdirlain considered her options. The split between pedestrians minding their business and those gawking allowed her to mingle and move along.

[Combat Summary

Eldritch Manipulator x1

Total Experience gained: 11,850

Ostimë: +5,925

Ontãlin: +5,925 ]

Though she’d intercepted one minor Eldritch, the others were more elusive, and Amdirlain focused on the unmoving source. After she’d covered nearly nine kilometres through the city towards the distortion, Amdirlain noticed a shift in the foot traffic. Casual travel packs had replaced shopping bags and business attire.

Ahead, she noticed that the city blocks were composed of mere high rises and multi-story buildings instead of skyscrapers. Soon after the transition started, the city gave way to a broad expanse of greenery surrounded by a warded iron fence. A sign beside the first gate she spotted proclaimed it the Triumvirate Campus. Further signage beneath it provided a campus map, with various clusters of buildings marked as different faculties.

High rises rose from the centre of the three most significant clusters, and Amdirlain checked them against the map. The Wizard, Artificer, and Alchemist buildings were the tallest, but there were many other faculties too.

Even from the campus edge, Amdirlain had no trouble determining the large distortion she’d been tracing lay directly beneath the Wizard’s building. Between it and her lay multiple barriers of impressive wards that Amdirlain was certain she couldn’t freely cross to investigate.

Amdirlain turned left to circle the campus and noted buildings that hosted cafes, bookshops, and various material supplies as she walked. Passersby flicked their gaze over her worn attire, and Amdirlain copied the stride of the female students closest to her apparent age.

Though warded, Resonance let her map out the massive campus, large enough to be a city in itself. The layout of the campus fence line was yet another hexagon and ran for four kilometres along each side. Against the background of the distortion near its centre, making out details was painful.

Pushing Resonance through the distortion radiating from beneath the Wizard tower took work. After a few minutes of trying to map the tower’s interior, Amdirlain gained an increase in Resonance, but she wasn’t satisfied with the details it provided. Challenging Resonance to grow, Amdirlain tallied the Catfolk on campus, hitting sixty thousand before another increase sounded.

[Resonance [S] (117->118)

Mental Hardening [G] (2->3)]

Using Analysis on the distortion sent a rasping numbness scratching across the surface of her mind. A glacial pressure slid across the back of her mind, and frost crackled behind her eyes.

[Delirium of Darkness

Primordial Tier: 3

Details: It is a thought, an idea of darkness compressed into reality by the possibilities within the Far Chaos. Its presence draws in light and sound around it, leaving mortals with a never-ending scratching sensation at the back of their minds. Once exposed to it, the darkness persistently tries to drink in the light of their rational thoughts.

Note: Do I need to tell you about translation errors with these fellows anymore?

Note: I think it’s asleep and still spreading madness.]

Sitting on a bench to consider the situation, Amdirlain watched the people around her while probing at its history with Analysis. After getting nothing, she stopped to review the information she’d been provided on the planet and the reference to Eldritch Sorcerers.

[Cult of the Delirium of Darkness

Details: The Wizard who found the ‘pool’ brought it to the original campus to study it. In their madness, they thought their wards could contain it. It didn’t take long before its influence had the finder's disciples worshipping it. This practise continued over generations of cultists spreading the incursion’s influence. Fortunately, its mere presence frequently destroys the minds of those deemed worthy of viewing it directly, rather than in effigy.

Beware the liquid night that feeds on the silence between stars.]

The song fragment she’d caught upon killing the other creature pointed Amdirlain to a ludicrous idea. Still, the entity tier didn’t seem like it would be countered any other way, if she could even get strong enough to affect it.

Wanting an excuse to linger nearby that didn’t rely on using powers or spells, Amdirlain turned her attention to the buildings outside the campus. When she heard a shop filled with musical instruments ahead, Amdirlain picked up the pace but kept the careful mimicry of stride.

Within the shop were various instruments, some that provided octaves outside the range of Human hearing. String and wind instruments were standard, though there was nothing like a piano or keyboard, and the drums were all for a rumbling bass sound. Aside from musical instruments whose functioning Amdirlain easily recognised, there were rune-inscribed discs and crystalline spirals. They’d grouped the various categories of instruments on shelves and racks around the shop.

As Amdirlain paused on the doorstep, a whistling chime sounded from above her, drawing the attention of a male clerk with tortoiseshell fur and grey eyes. He wore only a short-sleeved shirt and loose pants; his clawed toes tapped impatiently as Amdirlain lingered in the doorway.

Spotting a shelf containing instruments analogous to lap harps, Amdirlain bypassed racks of multiple-necked guitars closest to the door. Signs against the back wall indicated three recording rooms that were currently unused.

“There are used ones in the store room that will save you funds,” the clerk called as Amdirlain carefully traced her fingertips along a frame.

“If you need to clear storage space, I suppose I can take one off your hands if you drop the price far enough,” sighed Amdirlain.

“I said it would save you some coins, not that I’ve got instruments to gift,” rejected the clerk. “Used ones are discounted thirty percent off the brand; we only buy them if they’re in good condition.”

“Can’t let one go for forty per cent?” enquired Amdirlain.

The clerk rolled his eyes. “We’re not a charity. If you need something cheaper, you’ll need to look elsewhere.”

Amdirlain turned towards him with her arms crossed. “I supposed thirty is fine if it includes some spare strings.”

“Look. Like I tell everyone else that tries that, I don’t set the price, so attempting to haggle won’t help you,” rebuffed the clerk. “You look fresh from the country, so I’ll tell you that haggling for finished goods isn’t a thing here.”

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Amdirlain flicked a hand towards the marked door. “Fine, can I at least try the used ones to check their sound?”

“Yep, but you break it, you buy it; that includes strings if you rough handle them,” declared the clerk. “What you after it for?”

“Public performances,” advised Amdirlain. “Do they let you do busking here?”

“Kid, you’ve got a music faculty right across the road. Hang out in its public areas, and you’ll hear all sorts of musicians playing for free. If you need to make some coin, head to the business district, but competition can be fierce.”

“Musical students just sit around campus playing?”

“You’d hope they’d also attend classes, but the best way to get the confidence to perform in public is to do exactly that,” advised the clerk. “Better to freeze up in a quad and rush off pretending you forgot the time than do it mid-recital.”

Amdirlain flicked the tip of her tail in his direction and curled it into a question mark. “Voice of experience?”

The clerk’s ears flicked, and his nose wrinkled in amusement. “That excuse is traditional for nervous students and is completely acceptable.”

Keeping a straight face, Amdirlain nodded thoughtfully. “How long have you been studying there?”

“I’ve completed two years, currently taking a study break to save funds,” reported the clerk, and Amdirlain caught the burr of a lie in his answer.

“Are there any group residences near campus?”

The clerk’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “It’s nowhere near either intake, and you seem a little young.”

“I’m new to the territories, hoping to apply the first chance I get,” explained Amdirlain.

As he glanced towards the campus, the clerk’s whiskers twitched dismissively. “The only accommodation near campus is for those on scholarships with rich parents. Though sometimes, you have someone following one of the arcane tracks that somehow don’t fall into one of the first two camps. I subscribe to the theory that they started to teach other subjects so the arcane student’s retinue would save their energy for outside threats.”

“Oh!?”

The clerk waved towards a display board with various posters. “Never mind me, just a bit annoyed at some unlucky breaks. Some clubs give stage time, and you can keep any gratuities. How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” reported Amdirlain.

The clerk coughed in surprise. “You here by yourself?”

“Yes,” replied Amdirlain, drawing herself up tight.

“Alright, sorry, none of my business. How good are you with a harp?” enquired the clerk.

“I’m a far better singer than an instrumentalist, but I don’t know the local songs.”

“Yeah, good instrumental playing crosses boundaries. Still, what does your record rank your skills at?”

“That’s personal,” objected Amdirlain, and she flicked her tail derisively.

“Fine, I’ll let you buy your instrument and be on your way,” dismissed the clerk.

Amdirlain narrowed her gaze. “Why are you wanting to know?”

“You’ve got confidence about you, and I think you’d do well on stage,” advised the clerk, and he offered his hand. “My name’s Jal’krin, of the Silverstring pride and current black burr on the family name.”

“Why would I want to associate with someone on the outs with their family?”

“Because, unlike others, I won’t yank you around for pride politics. There is money to be had in music contests and betting on them. You need local advice, and I need to get enough money to recommence my studies to have any hope of my parents’ forgiveness,” explained Jal’krin. “Heck, they won’t talk to me again unless I do more than that. There are musical competitions where you can make as much money in side bets as the first prize if you’ve got someone to place bets for you. I can get you in, help you nail the prize money, and help advise you on the less dickish among patron offers.”

A quick touch against his thoughts showed there was more to it than that, but also that her Charisma had been leaking. Pulling the rest of the details from his mind, Amdirlain’s gaze narrowed. “Did you blow your study fund betting, or someone else’s as well?”

Jal’krin winced and eyed her suspiciously. “My sister’s.”

“And now you’re grabbing at straws. Did your bet annoy someone outside your family?”

“That I’m not sharing, as it is no business of yours, and you’ve not told me your ranks,” rebuffed Jal’krin, his voice filled with nettled pride.

“Do Power and Skill ranks show up with the device they use to set up a chit?”

Biting at his top lip thoughtful, Jal’krin eventually replied. “Nah, that just checks your classes, levels, and attributes. The law keepers don’t take a full record unless you’re brought up on charges.”

Amdirlain snorted. “You don’t sound certain.”

“Civil studies was a few years back,” grumbled Jal’krin. “Why did you want to know?”

“Because I recently got a chit, and if Skill information is accessible, its check might ruin the advantage of surprise,” stated Amdirlain. “I’ve Senior Master rank with singing, Journeyman with the harp.”

Her pronouncement had Jal’krin spluttering in disbelief. “What?! You said you’re sixteen!”

“Play me something,” demanded Amdirlain, and her tail lashed the air as she delicately projected affronted outrage.

“You said you don’t know the local songs,” reminded Jal’krin, stepping back from the chill menace Amdirlain had accidentally hit him with.

Amdirlain crossed her arms and smiled mockingly. “I’ll duplicate the sounds of the instrument itself. Play however long a song you feel capable of playing.”

“What do I get when you fail?” heckled Jal’krin, though his voice cracked with anxiety.

Pretending to reach into her pack, Amdirlain placed a high-denomination coin on the counter. “If I win, I’ll tell you when and how much you can bet. You break our arrangement, and I’ll stop working with you. You also tell me who you offended with whatever you were betting on. Also, I can use an unbooked sound room in the back each day.”

Though the last wasn’t his to agree to, Jal’krin exhaled sharply to brace himself and moved to a set of the arcane disks. His fingers danced across them with light, rhythmic movements, producing a swooping series of sounds. A thin trickle of Mana slipped from his fingers, and the discs sang like a rapidly bubbling brook. His control continually shifted the runes the Mana ran across. The lively music cascaded between high notes and deep, and had Amdirlain tapping her foot. Amdirlain neither interrupted nor joined in until he finished fifteen minutes later.

When his hands lifted from the discs, Amdirlain duplicated the music and projected a touch of challenging derision as she did. Before she was even through the first minute, Jal’krin had dropped to sit on the carpeted floor, his muzzle cupped in his hands.

“That was my composition, my song, but you made it sound like a river would drag me under. Roll me in grave rot. How did you do that?” gasped Jal’krin when she was done.

Amdirlain strode forward and tapped him on the nose. “By not putting my foot in my mouth. Who did you offend?”

Jal’krin licked his lips. “A faculty dean’s second son, you’ll likely never meet him. The fact I, a patron-less individual, challenged his musician he apparently found insulting and that I came close to winning made it worse. What sort of evolved Class do you have?”

“My imprint shows level five Bard,” reported Amdirlain, and Jal’krin mewled in confusion.

“Bard; what sort of bygone backwater do you come from?!” spluttered Jal’krin. “After that performance, I expected a rare evolved Class like Diva, Auroralist, or Virtuoso; you’re not even a focused Singer. How did you do that as a BARD?!”

“Talent, try it,” snapped Amdirlain. “If you’re going to keep putting down my Class, I’ll find the locations of the competitions myself.”

Jal’krin flung up his hands in apology. “My bad, you shocked me, sorry. I worked for years to get my two evolved classes, and you did that with an ancient Class. You asked about group homes. You got a place to stay?”

“No,” admitted Amdirlain.

“There is an open stage night at Clearstrike’s tonight, which isn’t far from my place. You can have the couch free,” offered Jal’krin. “Safe zones run between it and my apartment block.”

“You just don’t want to let me out of your sight,” accused Amdirlain.

Jal’krin nodded. “Too right.”

“How do I know you won’t try anything?”

“You’re a kid. The amount we’ll bring in with bets, I’ll soon be swimming in trouble-free offers of company,” dismissed Jal’krin.

“I’ll tell you when to bet,” reminded Amdirlain.

“Of course,” Jal’krin readily agreed.

Amdirlain frowned sceptically. “What are your evolved Classes?”

“Instrumentalist, Arcane Composer, and Sharpshooter,” offered Jal’krin.

Amdirlain nodded, pleased he hadn’t lied. “Alright. Should I wear something else?”

Jal’krin looked over her worn armour critically. “It gives you an authentic, fresh off the plains look.”

“I’m from the mountains, born on a cliff face,” countered Amdirlain.

“Even better,” declared Jal’krin

Opting to poke a problem, Amdirlain jerked her thumb towards a sound booth door. “Can I use a sound booth now?”

“Ahh yeah, about that,” Jal’krin winced. “Sitting in one is fine, but you can’t turn anything on. The moment you do, the charge runs up in quarter-hour slots.”

“That’s fine. I need the soundproofing, or does that require a rune activated?”

“Just don’t leave a mess behind,” replied Jal’krin nervously.

“Are you the only person who handles the store?”

Jal’krin nodded to the door. “The shop gets busier in the afternoon, but it’s not even lunchtime yet.”

“So it’s likely I can only use a booth in the morning?” asked Amdirlain suspiciously.

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” hedged Jal’krin.

“Then what would you say? That you make bets in bad faith when you can’t pay up?” interrogated Amdirlain.

Jal’krin’s shoulders slumped. “Would you expect someone to be able to reproduce that instrument with their voice?”

“Do you know the most important thing for a meeting or a bet?”

“What?”

“Always be certain of the outcome before conducting either,” advised Amdirlain. “The mornings will be enough.”

“The store doesn’t have a singing tutor,” proposed Jal’krin.

“I might talk to your boss about that idea,” stated Amdirlain. “Though, if you don’t mind, I’ll use a sound booth until they show up.”

Jal’krin motioned for her to go through and sat back behind the counter.

“Also, can you sell me this harp?” asked Amdirlain, pointing to one of the better harps. “And a hard case that’s taken a bit of a beating so that people won’t expect a decent instrument.”

As Jal’krin rang up the sale, she noticed more distortions, similar in strength to the Eldritch Manipulator, approaching the campus. Unleashing songs silently, she tagged each possessed and sent the details to the surveyor overhead, ordering it to map their movements.

Hold on, whoever you are, I need to find where all the Eldritch sites are located first.