Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands
Klipyl’s Spirit Bridge had taken hours to progress to where it could reach across Planes. When Amdirlain returned, the change in Frey made her glad it had given her the time to talk quietly with Solveiga. Though Frey had a road ahead from all she’d endured, she looked calmer at present.
Determination and guilt flitted across Solveiga’s face when she approached Amdirlain, making it obvious they hadn’t just spoken about her ordeal.
“You have Allegiance Bond, right?” asked Amdirlain, not giving Solveiga time to speak.
“Yes, I do,” Solveiga replied hesitantly. “I’m—”
Amdirlain smiled and cut in. “Why don’t you offer the Bond to Frey and accompany her? You have both Monk and Wizard classes, so you can assist with her training. Strangely, you know the local culture and could take care of the guild situation.”
“Can I get a word in?” grumbled Solveiga, her cheeks flushed.
“You’ve had a few words, and I didn’t hear a ‘No’,” teased Amdirlain, lightly patting her shoulder.
“I wasn’t sure I should ask with O’Nai off—”
The wary smile carried pain in it that stopped Solveiga, but Amdirlain spoke softly. “If it’s what you want, don’t worry about anyone else. Your conflict was obvious from the moment I appeared. Only worry about what’s the right fit for you. Where is it you want to be making a difference? What calls to you Solveiga?”
“I’d like to help Frey. She wants to ensure the girls get home safely, then go to Belum and lay the undead to rest. After that, go onto Nova Roma and help those starting the work to abolish slavery there,” replied Solveiga, catching her hand. “What’s wrong Lady Amdirlain?”
“The first two certainly sound achievable in the short term. Take care of Frey and yourself, Solveiga. You’ve both been through a lot,” replied Amdirlain.
“Please tell me what’s wrong?” insisted Solveiga gently.
Amdirlain considered her for a moment and reassuringly touched her arm. “It’s nothing you or the others have done. I’ve old pains catching up with me now that Isa is free. I need some time for myself to get my balance.”
Solveiga’s gaze stayed fixed on Amdirlain’s face. “Like after battle shakes?”
“Not just battles, but those as well. I never wanted to consider everything I’d pushed aside; there was always the next fight or person to help, anything rather than facing my pain. I need to learn to be kind to myself,” admitted Amdirlain.
Solveiga leaned forward to press her forehead against Amdirlain’s. “It’s a platoon rule; those injured are removed from combat as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, I know I helped set those rules, but I’m pretty sure that referred to physical wounds,” chided Amdirlain.
“We adjusted the rule after you left. It covers anyone with impaired effectiveness now,” said Solveiga, a smile softening her words. “Some started getting drunk regularly once we received wages. After we didn’t let them fight, they found a reason to stop drinking.”
“The problem with Amdirlain is she liked to let pain ferment away inside her—now the brewing vats are overflowing,” Sidero said, chains silently swaying about her. “Are you putting this off longer or are we all set now that Klipyl can send messages to you?”
“All set, now that you have a comms officer. Your choice if you want to get introduced to the Erakkö,” said Amdirlain.
Sidero nodded immediately. “We should get introduced, better to avoid surprises if we need to provide a fast warning. After the animosity on the expedition, this will be weird, but I’ll try to behave.”
“Right, I’ll send Frey and Solveiga through to the compound first. Solveiga, talk to Frey about the bond, also ask if she’d like me to purge her original Class. You might need to hide your wings,” Amdirlain teased and gestured for Klipyl to join them.
“No, really?!” gasped Solveiga, in mock confusion. “Why would I do that?”
Stepping past Klipyl, Solveiga put a hand on Frey’s shoulder. “Can I have a moment? I’d like to talk about accompanying you.”
Amdirlain focused on Klipyl, trusting Solveiga to handle her conversation alone.
“Klipyl, I’ll need details of the compound from you, so I can place the Gate for them. Think of it as you last saw it, I’ll draw the details from your mind.”
“Do I get a kiss for being a good girl if I help?” asked Klipyl, with a tiny pout.
“No, but since you’ll be going to fight, I’ve got a set of bracers I can give you,” offered Amdirlain, and considered what else she’d stashed and not used. “A magical spear as well if you can fight with one.”
Klipyl laughed made a stabbing motion with her tail. “I can learn to. It’s a sharp stick. Stab the person with the pointy end, right?”
“It’s a bit more complex, but I’m sure you’ll manage,” Sidero stated. “I learnt how to use one, so I’m sure we can figure out a trade for my training.”
“A trade?! A Demon learning from a Devil?” gasped Klipyl.
“Some Succubi come and go between Hell and the Abyss,” Sidero replied casually.
“Well, the things you learn,” remarked Klipyl. “Not sure I want to get involved in the Hierarchy of Sin though—”
The sudden appearance of the items in Amdirlain’s hands interrupted whatever Klipyl had been about to say.
Klipyl’s gaze darted between the items, and her amusement vanished. “You’re just giving them to me? No catch?”
“If you want them, you can have them,” confirmed Amdirlain, and Klipyl carefully took them from her. “The Bracers of Fortification are rated at two-seventy defence, and the spear at two-fifty attack power.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen any imprint of mine,” admitted Klipyl.
“I can see your strength without one; they’ll make a significant difference to your combat capabilities,” Amdirlain said and tapped her forearm lightly. “Keep yourself intact. Now, please visualise the compound.”
Klipyl donned the bracers before she followed Amdirlain’s instruction. The place’s feel arose in Klipyl’s mind along with a mixture of details Amdirlain would have preferred not to know. Setting the sexual appetites of the various guards aside, Amdirlain focused on opening the Gate; when it opened ahead of her was a bloodstained step, and a rune-set door.
“That certainly looks right,” observed Klipyl.
“Lady Amdirlain, thank you for all your help. I accept your offer to remove it. I’d like something more helpful to people,” Frey said warily, avoiding her eyes.
Amdirlain lightly touched her cheek and prompted her to meet her gaze. “It wasn’t a judgement, Frey. I simply noticed you had stopped progressing it and wanted to give you a choice. I’ll remove the Class from you now.”
Frey’s sigh of relief turned into a shocked gasp, and she trembled against Solveiga’s quickly offered support. “My apologies Frey, I didn’t expect such a reaction.”
“That’s unnecessary; it was more the surprise than discomfort, like dropping into cold water from a height,” replied Frey. “I wish I could put all my bad choices behind me so easily.”
“Sometimes we learn more from bad choices than good, if we take the time to look at them properly,” commented Sidero blandly, ignoring the unamused look she received from Amdirlain.
Ignoring their commentary, Klipyl held an elaborately carved stone out to Frey.
“That’s the tower’s ward stone. There are some storage bags just inside the tower’s second level that I couldn’t carry via Teleport. Don’t open any door or container if the ward stone is warm near it,” instructed Klipyl.
Frey took it from Klipyl without hesitation and patted her arm. “You’re a strange one, Klipyl, but I think you’re alright even if you’re a demoness.”
“You’re alright for a Mortal, just try not to get your candle snuffed out,” grumbled Klipyl. “Arsehole’s just inside the door. Trap will reset if you clear the spikes, likely safer to leave him there—not sure if they’re poisoned. Anytime a ward stone crosses the trap, it won’t trigger for a half-dozen breaths afterwards. Watch out for the runes I pointed out before, they’ll trigger regardless of the ward stone, which you know firsthand.”
Frey nodded in thanks before she moved through the Gate, only to stop on the doorstep until Solveiga followed her. When they were both inside the tower, Amdirlain let the Gate close.
“I don’t know a lot about the Erakkö customs, but I’ll cover what I know before I open a Gate. I should make some clothing for you Klipyl. Is mercenary armour acceptable?”
Klipyl pulled a face at the suggestion. “I’d prefer dominator leathers; I like the figure-hugging look.”
“Dominator it is then,” Amdirlain said, holding out a hand to Klipyl. The Succubus stepped close and removed her wings and tail before Amdirlain created the clothing. As soon as her outfit was ready, Amdirlain started on the details she’d learnt of the Erakkö customs.
Klipyl adjusted her appearance further to something similar to a Moon Elf after Amdirlain had finished the briefing—though far more buxom than Amdirlain had seen from any Elf. Her face, almost heart-shaped, came to a pointed chin, but Klipyl had smoothed out some of the feral edges from her features. The ink-black hair and iris, contrasting her pale ivory skin, were dusted with hints of sky-blue undertones and lush red lips. Gone were her horns, fanged eye-teeth, and pointed tongue, and she appeared a quite voluptuous Elf.
The Gate opened in the castle’s meeting room, interrupting the General and his staff—but Echo’s presence surprised her amid what looked a formal discussion.
I hope he’s been avoiding pranks.
Hiding her wince of embarrassment, Amdirlain laced her fingers and gave the General a slight bow. “My apologies for this interruption, General. I would present you with two name-gifts from those that would seek to assist your country against the Thri-Kreen threat.”
General Angarhela relaxed at her words and interlaced his hands before he bowed in return. “Lady Amdirlain, I had not expected to meet again, and certainly not with more aid directly from you. The name-gift of whoever you’d add to our efforts would honour me.”
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Amdirlain noticed some hesitation among his staff, but the General walked through the Gate and bowed again.
“General, I present you the name-gift of Sidero and the name-gift of Klipyl,” Amdirlain said, motioning to each. “They’ll be venturing out into the Thri-Kreen held lands to cull their numbers but also to find the source of the swarms.”
“I’m honoured by these name-gifts, Lady Amdirlain. Might I ask you to present my name-gift to them in return?”
“It would be my honour to be so entrusted General,” replied Amdirlain, sure she’d gotten the words wrong, but the General seemed more comfortable than when she’d ignored their protocols. “My apologies for my awkwardness with your customs; I need to find time to learn more about your people’s ways.”
[Diplomacy (8->11)]
Amdirlain just blinked at the message that appeared and turned to Sidero without retorting.
“Sidero, I present you with the name-gift of General Angarhela, commander of the castle’s forces.”
“I’m honoured by General Angarhela’s name-gift,” Sidero replied, her husky tone causing the General’s eyes to widen further.
Amdirlain turned to Klipyl, repeated the introduction, and held back her sigh at the Succubus’ reaction.
Klipyl gave a sultry smile and copied Amdirlain’s earlier bow. “I’m honoured by General Angarhela’s name-gift. I look forward to gaining an intimate knowledge of the Erakkö.”
Angarhela coughed at the purr in her voice and returned both their bows.
“I can’t help but notice you’re in a different location this time, Lady Amdirlain,” Angarhela said, quickly changing the subject.
Giving a half-shrug, Amdirlain tilted her head at the trees. “We’re still in the same realm as my Domain. Might they have your permission to enter your fortifications? Sidero’s chains are dangerous for Mortals to touch but she’ll not look to harm anyone unworthy of it.”
“Some of the castle’s passages are tight, perhaps an exterior location to prevent accidents,” suggested Angarhela.
Sidero nodded and gave Angarhela another bow. “My thanks, that sounds wise. We won’t be staying long, General, but we wanted to meet you and let you know we’d be rendering help. If you have any old maps of the south, we’d appreciate seeing them before we set out.”
“Only some rough drawing in the archives. Few venture forth through this pass; it leads into the heart of the swarm-lands,” admitted Angarhela.
“That sounds like exactly the place we’re looking to venture, General,” Sidero stated. “We’ll look to break whatever swarms we can while we seek the cause of their change.”
“I’d ask Echo to assist me in refocusing the Gate to the yard; my apologies again for the interruption to your meeting, General,” Amdirlain said.
“Your help is welcome, and whatever way we might assist, please let us know,” Angarhela replied. “Your people have helped keep watch on the approaches between other activities.”
Sidero nodded and kept her strange gaze fixed on the General’s mouth. “We appreciate the offer, General Angarhela. Since you’ve not recent maps of the region to the south, I’ll provide you a map of our explorations. I’m skilled in mapping and drawing; one can’t make orderly plans without the proper information. We’ll move out immediately.”
The General bowed again and stepped back through the Gate; Sidero stopped Klipyl from immediately following him with a raised hand. “Let’s wait until the Gate re-opens; I’d prefer not to need to track you down if you get distracted.”
“But they might fit or I could—’
Amdirlain cleared her throat and nodded to Echo, who headed towards the chamber’s door, and she closed the Gate before Sidero could respond.
“You can find out another time,” Sidero said and switched to Abyssal. “Be good, and I’ll see you orgasm hard later.”
“OH!” exclaimed Klipyl. “I’ll hold you to that, fingers, tongue, toys?”
Sidero just smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Giving them both a look, Amdirlain said nothing and re-opened the Gate when she received a ready message from Echo.
“I’ll get Klipyl to send weekly updates so you don’t worry while you’re dealing with other issues,” Sidero said and stepped through the Gate. Echo blinked in disbelief at her appearance, and Amdirlain could sense he was suddenly aware of the Infernal energies coming from her.
“It’s alright Echo, Sidero’s situation is like my own, and Klipyl will assist her,” assured Amdirlain, and Echo just gave a wary nod.
Once Klipyl was through the Gate, Amdirlain closed it and slumped to the grass, hoping she hadn’t started something she’d have cause to regret. It took a while to accept the anxiety chewing at her was merely emotion, not fact, but she worked to calm it and avoided simply suppressing it. Only when she’d achieved that acceptance did Planar Shift move her into Limbo.
[Planar Shift (Self) [B](19->20)]
Her churning emotions agitated the Plane’s chaos and energy swirled about before she gained control. Keeping a hold on Limbo’s reality, she formed a small platform under her feet and teleported that with her to within sight of the monastery’s defences. Amdirlain expanded the platform with Chaos Shaping and established a breathable atmosphere around it. This time she created nothing complex but merely a stone platform and knelt in the middle of it, sparing a moment to send an update message to Ebusuku.
Members of the order stood guard atop the monastery’s black adamantine walls. The moment she settled down to wait, Amdirlain felt increased activity among those upon the wall. It was perhaps a few hours before Master Duurth teleported onto the platform and sat down, crossed legged without a word. He was wearing the same deep-brown split robes, secured with a woven belt. He still restrained his hair in the tight topknot style that emphasised his features’ angularity and the solid grey of his hair.
“Know Eakcï, though you gained permission to return and study, we did not expect you would,” Duurth said after a few minutes sitting in silence on her platform.
“I had to change my name; It’s now Amdirlain. Am I not welcome, then?”
Duurth nodded and raised a hand in a calming motion. “Know what you call yourself is not important, though I’ll share it among those that require it. Know that you are welcome, but the monastery’s seers didn’t foresee your returning at all. Do you seek another brief visit or wish to spend longer amongst us?”
“I’m looking for help and to learn,” replied Amdirlain, and held her emotions in check.
For a long moment, Duurth was still, but eventually, he tilted his head in a contemplative gesture. “Know that to seek help is distinctly different than being allowed to study among us. What is it you seek?”
“My emotions and memories are unsettled; I need to calm them,” Amdirlain explained. A sudden burst of anxiety at being turned away battered at her control, and she kept her fingers laced together to prevent a hand from reaching for her braid.
“How did you get into this state?” asked Duurth. “Know I do not feel your spirit projecting uncontrolled as it did last time.”
“I’ve had emotions from many painful situations locked away, but recently, all I’ve held suppressed is roiling around inside me,” said Amdirlain, and caught Duurth’s suppressed wince.
“Know this sounds similar to a Psionic technique I’m aware of, one that can be very dangerous in misguided hands,” said Duurth. “How long have you continually utilised this approach?”
“Years,” Amdirlain admitted, and Duurth’s jaundice-yellow skin paled. “Various Monk abilities I practice—that differ from your people’s ways—have helped me keep the emotions in check, but recent events have started them unravelling.”
“How many?” Duurth asked quietly. “Three, four, five? Know the number makes a difference in how much work it involves helping you recover.”
“Decades and past lifetimes apparently,” said Amdirlain, only to watch Duurth’s jaw drop.
“Know that your condition might not be recoverable, and those helping would need to touch your mind.”
“I can allow others into my Mind Palace at least, but you’d find the memories strange and even horrific,” admitted Amdirlain.
Duurth immediately frowned in response. “Know the concern is not your memories; rather, a Psion’s emotional energy can develop a life of its own. Know I will speak with Master Jarithä to see what he wishes done.”
“Thank you,” Amdirlain said quickly.
“Know you should not thank me—I merely seek direction—if he wishes you to leave, the decision is final,” corrected Duurth. Amdirlain felt his mind reach out along his link to those within the monastery, and the energy within the link grew stronger a moment later.
“Know that I am to escort you to him immediately.”
The moment he finished speaking, Duurth rose and disappeared. Spotting his position outside the wall, Amdirlain teleported beside him. A narrow passage opened through the adamantine barrier, and Duurth motioned for Amdirlain to walk alongside. The robed Monks and Psions within the monastery observed their passing with restrained curiosity.
Master Duurth guided her in silence, and Amdirlain noted the subtle ascetic flares that appeared among the bleak corridors and stairs that travelled in odd directions. The patterns drew the eye and provided indicators around changes in gravity. The Anarchs’ control took advantage of their ability to alter Limbo’s subjective gravity from one stone to the next. Escher style buildings whose floors twisted to become the walls created a subtle obstacle course through the monastery.
Master Jarithä’s door opened the moment they approached, its spare furnishings and minimalistic decorations matching the rest of the monastery. Jarithä sat cross-legged atop a backless chair and appeared almost unchanged since she’d last seen him. The silver streaks still stood out clearly among his deep brunette hair, but showed no further spread. However, the severe angularity of his gaunt features seemed more pronounced, and his plain black robes hung looser on him than she remembered.
Prompted by a gesture from Duurth, Amdirlain stepped inside, and two backless wooden chairs appeared in an exact triangle relative to Jarithä’s position in the chamber. Duurth moved without hesitation to sit towards Jarithä’s right side, and Amdirlain took the other chair without comment. The moment they sat, the door drifted closed again.
“Know that examination of your mind is required to determine if we can help each other,” stated Jarithä. “Will you agree to this and Duurth accompanying me on the examination?”
His choice of words drew Amdirlain’s attention, and she glanced curiously between the two of them. “What do I need to do?”
Jarithä motioned her to patience. “Know that explanation will need to wait until after I determine if we can even provide healing. Is this acceptable?”
A light touch of Harmony was all Amdirlain managed, and she extended a mental hand to them both. “Yes, it is. Shall we begin?”
The connection—when it was established—wasn’t a direct link to both of them. Instead, Duurth was the only one that accepted her mental invitation, his mind effectively a cut out between herself and Jarithä.
Entry into her Mind Palace had them perched on a narrow spire of cold black rock that extended up from a bubbling sea of tar that stretched out of sight. In the sky overhead, a dark red sun shone angrily through a haze filled sky. Carefully approaching the spire’s edge, Amdirlain peered down at bodies lay pressed under the surface of the tar. Some were humanoid, but others were extremely alien—elongated, multi-limbed entities or weirdly stretched bodies and eyeless forms—yet somehow, she could identify the ‘face’ of each. They varied dramatically in size, and there seemed no pattern to either their size or placement. Directly beneath them, the spire speared into the hollow of the giant’s throat. At first, she didn’t recognise it, but when a scream of bubbles burst forth, Amdirlain finally realised it had been her human face—not mirror-reversed—it had evaded immediate recognition.
“Fuck!”
Her outburst caused Duurth and Jarithä to glance at her before their attention returned to the surrounding environment. Amdirlain could barely sense their presence while they studied the elements in her Mind Palace with the utmost care. The emotional spill had caused her water park to turn into the polluted tar pit beneath them, muddied with pain—both hers and those she’d seen in Soul Sight. Erupting bubbles sent the stench of effluent, blood, and viscera gagged down her throat, accompanying images from the perspective of both victim and tormentor.
Images that she recalled from the initial horrific impact of Soul Sight mingled with her loathing and clutched at her. A cold knife-edge of fear drew forth a burst of pleading screams, accompanied by hate-filled pleasure lashing across her. Manifestations of Gnarls rippled into existence right next to her, their hands already groping breasts and legs, eyes bright with lust. Amdirlain retaliated on pure instinct, and grasping thumbs and sweeping feet, her twisting movements sent them tumbling from the spire.
“Know it is good you’ve not devolved from your mind expressing in a proper conceptual fashion,” Jarithä said, unbothered by the blur of events and disappeared from her Mind Palace.
When Duurth disappeared, she released her hold on it and returned to the room.
Jarithä considered her for a moment and nodded. “Know your condition is worse than any I’ve read of making a recovery, yet appears at first assessment redeemable, which I find curious. Know you must remain in the monastery until we complete the efforts; otherwise, I’m sure the healing will come undone.”
“What other conditions do you have? How can I compensate for your efforts?” asked Amdirlain. She stopped her shaking hands brushing across her chest, the Gnarls touch in her Mind Palace still cutting along her nerves. The manifestation constructed from the memories and Souls of survivors she’d tried to help, laced with details Soul Sight had drawn from the Gnarls themselves and etched it into her mind.
“Know that you will attend the monastery as a novice to ensure you have a structured routine during your healing. Know that when healed, I would expect that you’d undertake such duties within or without the monastery to match the efforts put forward on your behalf.”
“Am I able to choose between what duties I’m doing in exchange? Also, can I undertake some tasks while the healing is in progress? I don’t sleep like a Mortal after all.”
“Know you would choose from monastery requests as any other graduate, and Master Duurth will provide your schedule until we complete the healing. Do we have an agreement?”
“We do,” replied Amdirlain. “Some memories and emotions weren’t my own.”
“How did you come to possess them?” Jarithä asked with mild curiosity.
“I can see Souls, but I get impressions of the entity’s life. Images and experiences were rising from the tar that weren’t mine,” explained Amdirlain.
Jarithä stared off into the distance momentarily, and Amdirlain could feel the mental energy he was using to contact someone far beyond the monastery’s boundary. “Know since they are within your mind, they’ll need to be examined to heal properly, though we will try the techniques for resolving memories implanted via psionic assault. Know that we will have to progress in measured steps.”
“I know a Monk who follows practices more similar to mine that the Githzérai practitioners—he knows of past lives.”
“Know that I will keep that in mind, but an outsider’s ways may cause more confusion than clarity.”
Having said his piece, Jarithä motioned for them to leave, and the door opened in time with his gesture.