Amdirlain’s PoV - Limbo - Monastery of Will’s Hand
Master Tenzin started when she entered the courtyard, and Amdirlain immediately appeared behind her. Her surprise vanished back into stillness, too slowly for Amdirlain to miss.
“Master Tenzin,” said Amdirlain politely, and noticed the meditation mats appearing under the direction of Tenzin’s will.
Tenzin looked over at Amdirlain again and frowned. “Know the first chime has not yet rung Novice Amdirlain.”
“I’m aware Master Tenzin, I just needed to be out of my room,” replied Amdirlain dryly.
Once the mats were all created, Tenzin motioned Amdirlain to her position. “Are things with Master Elliyna not progressing well?”
“They are progressing at their own pace,” Amdirlain said before adding an admission. “I’ve a long road ahead of me.”
“Know one truly has only now,” replied Tenzin, before she stood off to one side.
Master Âdaka wasn’t long in arriving and bowed to Tenzin and Amdirlain before she took up her position.
“Master Âdaka,” greeted Amdirlain.
“Know while I appreciate the formalities, I remain aware of the truth between our relative statuses,” replied Âdaka. “Novices have a half rest day every tenth if you wish to train together.”
Amdirlain went to respond, but Âdaka continued quickly. “Know I meant train—not exchange pointers—as I believe I would learn much just from observing your forms. Know I’d understand if you’d prefer to decline given the way we conflicted the last time you visited.”
“I’ll consider it, but likely I’ll be engaged in meditation any chance I get to rest.”
“Know that the offer is there whenever you need a change in your routine,” Âdaka stated, surprising Amdirlain with her persistence.
I don’t think her father would be the type to force her to go play nice. Is she actually trying to make up for being a bitch? Though she didn’t actually accept responsibility, maybe she’s too proud to do so.
Sense Motive [M](10->11)
Amdirlain inclined her head to hide her surprise. “It’s appreciated, but it will be a while before I look to extend my schedule.”
[Diplomacy (14->15)]
The morning meditation didn’t provide any surprises, though Amdirlain felt various Novices fleetingly contact their breath with Telekinesis. The session had only drawn to a close when Tenzin spoke up. “Master Jarithä would like to see you in his study, Novice Amdirlain. You’re excused from breakfast if you wish to see him now.”
Paranoia cut through Amdirlain and she closed her eyes momentarily, only able to hope Elliyna was still alive after Mab’s unsubtle threats. “Thank you, Master Tenzin; I’ll go immediately.”
“Know I hope he sends you away,” Sarith whispered smugly, but Amdirlain simply walked away.
Master Âdaka fell in step beside her. “Know it’s rare but not unheard for monastery business to start before breakfast, but only important matters. Did something occur last night?”
She didn’t prompt for an answer, and the silence stretched between them until the aerial bridge between towers came in sight. “A few matters that I’d planned to discuss with Master Duurth, but it could be unrelated. Did you hear of anything that might warrant his attention?”
“Know the only strangeness was the Grand Master’s delegation arriving in the early evening. Know that the Seers didn’t foresee their arrival either, but much over the last few days is providing surprises—it has some of the council’s factions unsettled,” said Âdaka.
Though other questions arose, Amdirlain merely stuck with the subject at hand. “What is normal for delegations?”
“Know months of planning occur before a delegation’s arrival; surprise delegations are unknown,” replied Âdaka.
Amdirlain gave Âdaka an amused smile that rocked her with the energy surge that flowed with it. “You’ll never be able to say that again.”
“Know you also seem unsettled,” Âdaka observed.
“Last night was unsettling. I really wanted to speak to Master Duurth about it,” admitted Amdirlain. “I’ll try to keep myself under control.”
Âdaka slowed her pace momentarily, but darted forward to catch up when Amdirlain didn’t stop. “Know control would be for the best; the Grand Master’s outer warden leads the delegation and she can override any of Master Jarithä’s decisions. Know that any member of the order can challenge when a decision impacts them individually no matter what their rank, but only when it impacts them alone.”
“Great,” drawled Amdirlain. “So if a judgement applies to everyone it’s one thing, but if it applies to an individual, they have a right of challenge?”
“Know that your understanding is correct,” replied Âdaka. “Know also that if one issues a challenge, the challenged determines the nature of the contest.”
“Is there a limit on what they can pick?”
“Know it has to be something that both can take part in, but since you know Chaos Shaping, for example, that becomes a possibility,” offered Âdaka.
“My thanks.”
Amdirlain continued to Master Jarithä’s study at a steady pace even when Âdaka nodded and turned from the path towards whatever duties she had next. The study door wasn’t ajar this time, and two black robed Githzérai on either side of the door immediately fixed their attention on her when she turned the corner. The pair possessed an intense focus that left their deep-set gaze flat and cold, though their brown eyes showed sharp minds behind them. Their shaved scalps added an extra edge to the angularity of their features and pointed ears. Despite their opposing genders, the similarity in their carriage and dress gave them a strange air of uniformity. Though the female appeared to have a decade or two on her male counterpart.
Amdirlain could see wariness turn to caution the moment their minds failed to touch her own. Their mental energy rippled around in her own perceptions and she sensed their confusion at their inability to touch her mind. Though she refrained from reaching into their minds, she checked them both with Analysis.
[Name: Meiróyi
Species: Githzérai
Class: Monk / Psion
Level: 68 / 68
Health: 2,478
Defence: 458
Melee Attack Power: 318
Combat Skills: Zerthi [M] (5) - Various Psionic techniques - Various Innate Powers
Details: After he graduated from the inner sect of Zerth’Ad’Lun, Meiróyi worked with a combat team until offered a position with the Grand Master’s Guard.
]
[Name: Raszâka
Species: Githzérai
Class: Zerth
Level: 12
Health: 3,508
Defence: 585
Melee Attack Power: 350
Combat Skills: Zerthi [M] (5) - Various Psionic techniques - Various Innate Powers
Details: Has progressed slowly but steadily through the ranks of the Grand Master’s Guard after her graduation from the outer sect of Zerth’Ad’Lun. Gained the Zerth Prestige class by combining Monk and Psion at level 70.]
[Zerth:
A Prestige Class combining the Monk and Psion classes among the Githzérai. Variations of this Prestige Class exist depending on whether the individual combines them at Tier 2 or waits for higher Tier options to become available. The Class transforms various Psionic techniques into innate individual powers, removing the expenditure of Psi energy required for their activation.]
I’ve not seen that Prestige Class offered. I wonder if it’s the difference in my Monk way, or it’s a racial restriction to Githzérai because of their innate psionic powers.
“Greetings Raszâka. Know that Master Jarithä requested my presence.”
“Wait outsider,” said Raszâka
Amdirlain felt a burst of mental energy from Raszâka and listened to her smug thoughts when the instruction to keep ‘it’ waiting came back.
Seriously, position power plays? Have someone summoned and then make them wait.
Stopping herself from rolling her eyes Amdirlain just stood at ease, and started meditating. The same words that she’d directed at Mab the night before helping her focus.
I’m not responsible for her, and certainly not you. Doesn’t that apply to these strangers’ memories? Why do I let them stick to me this way? Do they stick to me or am I clinging to them since I’ve killed so many now?
I’m not responsible for their acts, and I acted only to stop the ones who enjoyed hurting and enslaving others. Torm called it fighting a war in a night, and I didn’t consider killing the unborn Gnarls murder. Why am I hung up on Souls that knew it was wrong? If those I respect and care for don’t consider my acts evil or murder; why am I letting them torment me?
Is it really a perspective of different worlds, or am I clinging to the murderers’ foulness?
I killed fewer people than I rescued. When does liberating someone make me a murderer? Was it because I drew a line in the sand and everyone that had crossed it went regardless of their circumstances if I found they’d experienced any pleasure in the acts?
Doesn’t my dislike of the killing make me different? I at least killed them without the torment they inflicted on others.
What was that whole saying about the ends?
The end cannot justify the means, for the simple and obvious reason that the means employed determine the nature of the ends produced.
I’ve simply been doing whatever I saw a need to do. Does it matter that I’ve taken the easy way at times to kill those responsible for torturing others? Does it cheapen the freedom I got them or their value? Or would they say I freed people by striking cowardly from the shadows, rather than showing others what needs to be opposed?
Caught up in her own contemplations, it was only when Raszâka’s tone turned sharp did Amdirlain open her eyes to regard her.
“Sorry, you were saying?” asked Amdirlain, though her gaze flickered over Raszâka and noted her hand resting upon the door.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Know you will go in now, any hostile action towards the Warden and we will see you dead Elf.”
Despite the arrogant tone, her words gained a polite nod from Amdirlain before her mind churned in sudden consideration.
Is it because I dismissed their cultural aspect and simply looked at it from what I considered the absoluteness of their evil? Their church’s customs taught them it was right, so they followed it, but I judged them by my own standards and what their deeds had done to others.
Though why do I judge myself harshly for killing them cleanly when Souls of others like them ended up in the Abyss from corruption? I’m already there, and in past lives, I’m told I destroyed nations and species. Was my reasoning then pure, or did my Soul’s nature let me off the hook?
“Do you not understand my order outsider?” grumbled Raszâka.
Time Sense made her aware of over an hour had passed since someone had provided instructions to make her wait.
Amdirlain shrugged with forced casualness. “Better the heartfelt devotion of a free Soul than the grudging obedience of a slave.”
At her words, Raszâka clenched her fists and stepped towards Amdirlain. “Know you will enter the study now or leave this place. Know your place outsider, and don’t quote our people's sayings at any of the Grand Master’s servants.”
The judgemental attitude she projected set Amdirlain’s thoughts whirling, and she started muttering her thoughts aloud in English feeling the need to hear them said aloud. “You don’t know me. Yet you judge me; at least that is what you show in your words and tone. Their very Souls showed me what they were like and instead of only judging them, I judged myself as well. Heck, I judged myself more harshly for actions I would have preferred not to take than for actions they took willingly, regardless of their justifications.”
“Are you mad, outsider?”
Amdirlain gave him a tight smile and switched back to Gith. “On what scale do you determine sanity Raszâka? A question I’d been working on distracted me, and speaking my thoughts aloud helped. It was a subject personal to me, so you didn’t need to understand what I’d been thinking about. Would you like to ask more questions and prolong this conversation?”
“Know, Novice Amdirlain, I would request you come inside,” called Jarithä, from beyond the suddenly open door.
“Would you like to step aside so I can pass?’” asked Amdirlain, though she wanted nothing to do with this headache.
“Know you best heed my warning,” said Raszâka, and stepped aside only after Amdirlain caught the edge of another’s mental instruction.
Biting back a retort, Amdirlain entered the study and took in the room’s occupants. Master Jarithä sat in his normal position with a female Githzérai sitting off against one wall as if she ruled the chamber with a condescending look fixed on her face. The upturned nose of the Githzérai accented her snobbish attitude perfectly from Amdirlain’s perspective. Though she clamped down on a surge of anger, the spike of emotion caused the stranger’s baby-blue gaze to widen.
[Name: Tallis
Species: Githzérai
Class: High Anarch / Grand Anarch
Level: 76 / 70
Health: 16,060
Defence: 620
Magic: 522
Mana: 712,152
Melee Attack Power: 411
Combat Skills: Dagger [M] (2) - Multiple Affinities - Various Spell Lists and Psionic Techniques]
The energy within her daggers’ enchantments showed where most of her melee attack power came from, and Amdirlain found the condescending attitude she directed at Jarithä distasteful. Fingers twitching against her braid, she pushed aside thoughts of grabbing Tallis’ own black locks before face planting her at Jarithä’s feet.
Does not kicking her out count as control?
“Are you alright today Novice Amdirlain?” asked Jarithä, his focus settled on Amdirlain and he seemed to shut out Tallis completely.
“Thank you for your concern Master Jarithä. Master Healer Elliyna startled me last night, so I didn’t have the most restful evening,” replied Amdirlain, his calmness making her wonder if Mab’s visit had been gone completely unnoticed. Tallis’ presence made her loathe to bring up the matter unprompted.
“Has the process been productive?”
Amdirlain nodded respectfully, focused purely on Jarithä she followed his example in conversationally cold-shouldering Tallis. “It’s just starting, but so far productive. I thank you again for your help in contacting her. How are you and your family today?”
“Know that my wife and I are well, our eldest trio haven’t been in touch lately, but I pray to Moradin that they are safe. Have your morning meditations with our youngest been insightful?”
“Master Âdaka, and I are seeking to find common ground beyond our initial differences in perspective,” answered Amdirlain, with a smile. “Are you a follower of Moradin, Master Jarithä?”
“Know he is a God of Crafters and Anarchs are continually crafting Limbo’s Chaos into reality for our brethren,” replied Jarithä.
“I’ll have to read up on the Githzérai beliefs. My visits to the library obviously didn’t cover enough of your culture.”
“Know we draw Deities from among many species. Shouldn’t all seekers search for those that match to our inner truths regardless of the species who originally revered them?”
[Diplomacy (15->16)]
Are we going to small talk her to death?
“Of course, I can see why you’d be among his faithful with that perspective. He is inspiring,” replied Amdirlain. Jarithä’s eyebrows raised at her phrasing, and Amdirlain continued. “Though I’m personally not among his faithful, I’ve had several pleasant conversations with his Priests.”
“Is there any purpose to this prattle?” Tallis asked primly.
Fixing Tallis with a dry smile, Amdirlain glanced back at Jarithä. “Does she lose standing by interjecting so rudely?”
Jarithä’s lips twitched the slightest fraction, but he tilted his head in contemplation before he responded. “Know that perhaps reading up on Githzérai etiquette might be in order as well.”
“Thank you for your advice, Master Jarithä, though I’m sure the other Novices will slowly get me up to speed on what they’ve learnt at home. Is Grand Anarch Tallis a political appointee to the position of the Grand Master’s outer warden position, Paramount Jarithä? Though I find it telling she hasn’t progressed other classes and instead just focused on her two Prestige classes.”
“How do you see that as telling, Novice Amdirlain?”
“While High Anarch and Grand Anarch certainly give her a power boost, to have gotten Grand Anarch to level seventy without taking another Class shows—to me—she’s more interested in rapid power grabbing than long-term growth. Those focused on purely growing their own power aren’t normally interested in paying more than lip-service towards helping others.”
[Diplomacy (16->18)]
“Says the one who can’t even control her emotions,” sneered Tallis.
Did I get extra points for getting under her skin? Here I was just poking the bear for her ‘it’ crack.
“Have you ever had a broken limb, Master Tallis?”
Tallis’ gaze narrowed, and she bit off each word of her reply. “How dare you threaten me!”
“It was a question, not a threat; at present, I’ve taken an emotional injury, you might say. Like a badly broken limb, I don’t have complete control, but I still possess some control. Master Healer Elliyna is helping me tend to my wounds while I conduct studies as a Novice to ensure I have a stable routine, but I assure you, I kept control over most of my emotions.”
“Then you do not know the strength of the outburst that slipped your control earlier,” retorted Tallis and ignored Amdirlain’s question. “Know I’ve decided you shouldn’t be among the Novices, or within this monastery.”
“I challenge your decision.”
“Know as an outsider, you have no standing to issue such a challenge,” declared Tallis.
Amdirlain couldn’t help her smug smile but restrained her urge to lash out. “I’m an accepted Novice of this monastery. I’m not allowed to offer or accept requests to exchange pointers, but correct me if I’m wrong: are challenges exchanges of pointers?”
“Know your enrolment should never have occurred, and as the Grand Master’s representative, I say you will leave now.”
“Yet Master Jarithä allowed it, and as a present member of the order I issue a challenge against your judgement as the Grand's Master’s representative,” replied Amdirlain, and caught the slightest of flinches from Jarithä.
“Do you even know the challenge process?”
“No, but I’m sure Master Jarithä or Master Duurth can bring me up to speed,” replied Amdirlain.
Jarithä fixed Amdirlain with a measured look. “Know this isn’t what I wanted regarding you here as a Novice.”
“You can’t always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need,” replied Amdirlain.
Ilya’s PoV - Duskstone
The amusement tickling across my mind grew stronger with each passing hour since Isa had gone to speak with Ebusuku until it reached near-constant giggling in the background. Packing up the grimoires I’d gained for a couple of new affinities, the ability to teleport to her side tickles temptingly.
Unsure how the wards would react, I follow the thread of her presence instead; the same link her amusement was still coming through now. The burly innkeeper tending to the counter at the inn’s front just nodding at me with a grunt when I head up. Its angle drags my attention off to the left side of the concourse the further I progress until it’s pointing directly into a shop front. Even without the guidance of the thread, Isa’s wordless singing carried down the concourse.
The presence of her amusement and music combine to ease the stone’s pressure around us. While the Dwarves seemed oblivious to the earth’s energy, its sheer weight makes my skin crawl the longer we stay here.
Easing through the crowd of Dwarves on the concourse, a Dwarf wearing a greyish-black fur cloak over a tabard and pants blocks my way. Chain loops of silver coins draped across his shoulders, gleaming cleanly in the concourse’s crystal lights. “What service are you looking to purchase from Vergadain’s Temple Elf Maid?”
“How about the service of you stepping out of my way? I’ve a friend inside. My interest is with her, not you or yours.”
“The one in golden armour, or the other in strange apparel like yourself?” questions the dwarf again, his eyes taking on that sharpness every haggler I’ve met possessed.
“She’s wearing clothes like me. I know she’s inside. Now step aside.”
The dwarf shakes his head and holds out a hand. “Entry into the inner vault is a silver for the privilege of viewing Vergadain’s treasures.”
“You want to take a coin from me?” I say and look them over with a smile. “Tell you what, merchant boy, you touch me before I make it inside and I’ll give you ten.”
“I’m a Priest.”
The Dwarf protests behind me, my speed having let me slide between him and a female Dwarf in simpler clothing, with a part chain of copper coins about her neck. The Temple’s very air has an energy that doesn’t sit exactly comfortably but is welcoming.
Isa is sitting at the head of a fancy table in clear sight with a half-dozen Dwarves all focused on their cards. Piles of chits sit by each player, most tiny molehills to the mountain that Isa is raking in without a break in her singing.
Halfway to Isa, I spot Ebusuku standing against the sidewall, the last lavish display providing her cover from being seen closer to the door.
“You had rubbish, and I folded,” grumbles a bejewelled Dwarf with a brown beard woven with gold chains as his attention fixed on Isa.
“Guess it’s not your lucky day,” I say, when Isa keeps singing with mischief dancing in her gaze, and the bejewelled dwarf glances my way. “She’s in a fine voice. She might not stop for hours yet. Did someone bet her on something?”
The laughing notes don’t make the answer clear, but the song continues unabated.
“Merchant Prince Paqnid, might I introduce you to Ilya. Ilya that good Dwarf is Merchant Prince Paqnid, High Priest of Vergadain. There was no bet. Someone who shall remain nameless remarked that a song without words is simply noise, not truly a song,” Ebusuku answers. “She started singing and I swear the stones have been singing along.”
“That would be a neat trick,” I offer quickly, and wiggle my eyebrows at Isa.
Her notes change pitch and skitter about through multiple octaves at once, yet the underlying song remains unchanged. The table flexes, sending the dwarves flinching back before one and all of them fix Isa with a wide-eyed look.
“Why are you seven playing cards, by the way?” I ask while the Dwarf who was shuffling gets himself back in order.
“I’m trying to recoup some of my losses,” grumbles Paqnid.
“Yeah, it’s not your lucky day at all playing cards with Isa,” I say and sit at an empty seat. “How did this start?”
“I lost some bets and ended up owing her six Angelic summons,” explains Paqnid. “This was my chance to win four of them back.”
A glance at Isa’s face just gains me a amused look and I wonder what she’s up to needing summons. “Win four of them back how?”
“We started with even chits. One of us just had to win all of hers from her,” admits Paqnid. “At this rate, I’ll have to perform them on worlds I’ve never heard of and with no idea how I can get to them.”
Spreading my hands, I give Paqnid a smile that turns his grumpy expression into a glare. “It’ll be an adventure.”
“That’s what she said,” huffs Paqnid.
“Just think, you’ll come back out of it with some tall tales, and perhaps valuables to trade. Knowledge of how to get to other worlds if nothing else,” I say, needing to slip my leg aside before Isa can kick my shin for the tall tales remark.
The main song rises to a crescendo and comes to a sudden halt. With its end, the hall’s back wall bursts into a wash of light. A natural Gate has replaced the decorative stonewall, its energies a deeper version of the Temple’s dedication with a tinge of the Outlands’ balance.
“What did you do, lass?” snaps Paqnid, rising to his feet, but the feel of the Gate shifts his outraged expression from disbelief to wonder in mere moments.
“I set a permanent Gate between here and Vergadain’s Domain under the Outlands,” Isa says with a giggle, and motions for the Dwarf with the cards to deal.
“Pilgrims will flock through Stoneheart to come here,” Paqnid gasps and practically falls back onto his seat.
Isa gives him a smile before turning to me with a wink. “Don’t say I can’t be gracious in victory.”
“You’ve not won yet,” proclaims Paqnid.
“I only needed two of those summons, so these extra four are the icing on the cake, and this game’s been fun,” replies Isa. “Even if someone reels my advantage back in, I’ll still count this fun a win.”
Sidero’s PoV - South from the central pass
“Are you done yet?”
Tracing the runes out along the human-sized steel plate, I focus and ignore the thirty—or more—repeats of the question. The instruction’s logic twists a balance between what I need, and what the material will sustain.
“Are-”
Glancing up at Klipyl, I find her grinning, and I’m so glad I left the child-raising to Mother. “You looking to get yourself in trouble?”
“I’m bored. Can we go yet?”
Straightening, I fix her with a look that has her scuffing the dirt with her feet. “What do you think I’m doing?”
Klipyl gives me a bright smile at my question. “Drawing boring stuff for far too long and then you started looking at it like you’ve forgotten why you drew it.”
Sighing at her reply, I almost set her orgasms rolling through her but resist the temptation to reward bad behaviour.
“I take it you’ve never seen an Artificer work,” I ask, already returning my attention back to the marked lines, to check them before I engrave.
“Work is overrated, I hated the ledgers the hags made me keep. I’d much prefer to be killing these bug things,” replies Klipyl, and I imagine a Hag having to crack a whip to get her to record anything.
“This will help us find things to kill, if you’ve patience enough to let me finish it,” I say, retrieving an inscribing tool when the logic looks complete.
Klipyl squeals happily. “Oh, why didn’t you just say so?”
I barely have twelve runes embedded with Mana before the first question comes from Klipyl. Glaring at her, I find she’s sprawled on her side. “Did you want to get punished?”
“Why? Did you want to spank me? I can promise you I’ve been a bad demoness.”
Before I can return to the inscribing, her mewling is already rising in pitch, but it was easier to tune out than her questions. By the time the last rune is in place, the air is thick with her aroma, and still I keep my grip on her will. Setting the first Thri-Kreen carapace in place, the runes activate in a burst of mana, and the shell fragments into pieces only to reform into crickets the size of my forearm.
It takes only a moment for them to re-orientate themselves before they hop southwards in a blur of speed that will eventually erode the shell. I’m only through the first dozen when the Eternal Map in my mind’s eye expands along the initial constructs course, contours and landmarks coming into existence.