Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands - Xaos
Amdirlain had made it past the market square when she spotted Trill. The mouse had a tiny wagon in tow, loaded with a box twice her size, and a folding scaffolding perched atop.
“Hello Trill, off to tend the stall?”
Trill released a surprised squeak and snapped her head back to look up at Amdirlain. “Oh, the Chaos Shaper. Hello—Am, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” agreed Amdirlain
“I’m glad I remembered your name correctly, especially since it’s so simple. I don’t normally have a stall, only when I’ve got lots of excess stock. Normally I’m tending my seamstress business; I’ve just returned from measuring the keep’s commander,” explained Trill. “Are you sure I can’t give you something for your help?”
“I’m sure. Glad it worked out so well for you. Do you have a shop or work out of your home?”
“My shop near the burrows,” chittered Trill as she excitedly waved up the slope from the market, away from the main road. Looking Amdirlain over, she patted her front paws together, and her words gushed out a deluge. “Do you always wear the same garments? You wore the same clothing yesterday. I could make you some outfits if you are short on clothing—at a discount. I’m told it’s unhealthy for tall folks such as yourself to wear the same clothing constantly, and the cloth lasts longer if you allow it time to breathe. Though they don’t smell like any cloth I’ve handled before-”
“Burrows? How big is your community here?” asked Amdirlain, the question popping out in self-defence against the rush of words.
Trill shrugs. “A few hundred or so under the hill.”
“Under the hill; isn’t it risky being close to the Portal?” Amdirlain enquired quickly before Trill could start up again.
“Somewhat, but it’s manageable. We’ve got to avoid getting too close to the Portal’s wards; even with them in place, the Chaos sometimes leaks. Our records say that caused all sorts of strangeness in the past, but those passages have long since been filled in,” advised Trill. “I’d offer to show you around, but you’re far too tall for any of our tunnels. Which is a shame since many have carvings that are so beautiful to see.”
Though tempted to shift forms, Amdirlain nodded regretfully. “I’ll let you be on your way, but I’ll come by your shop if my friends or I need clothing.”
“Oh! I sent you to the inn. Are you staying in town with someone?” enquired Trill, her paws frozen in mid-motion and her whiskers twitching higher.
“My friends and I are staying at the Blazing Portal for a while,” said Amdirlain. “Thank you for the directions the other day; I had no trouble finding it.”
“Good, good, I hope to see you about then,” chittered Trill, and she gave Amdirlain a wave before scurrying away, her little wagon skipping along behind her.
Amdirlain’s focus returned to the songs she’d been considering, but this time she noticed the increased pace of those around her. Paying attention to her stride, Amdirlain flowed along, keeping her pace relaxed, seeking to ensure she projected a calm to match. Despite the calmness and the deliberate stalking stride she used, Amdirlain still felt far too many interested gazes following her motions.
Opening the Blazing Portal’s front door, Amdirlain found the counter stacked with a pile of tokens. Wisp’s invisible form hovered behind the counter, but True Sight revealed the tendrils of energy that waved above the stack.
“Another game Wisp?”
“No, this is the result of every game token I have dumped into one box,” Wisp grumbled. “One of the others is a moron and thought it would be tidier and save space.”
“You could always turn sorting them into a game,” offered Amdirlain, and she moved closer to look over the stack.
“Why would I do that?”
“To remove some of the frustration. I try to find a game aspect to anything I find tiresome,” explained Amdirlain.
“Why do flesh folk play games like these?”
“To have fun, relax, or socialise with a shared experience. Why do you play them?”
“Initially, I was trying to understand flesh folk and thought they might make more sense if I played their games. But they’re always coming up with new shapes and things to move,” critiqued Wisp.
Amdirlain considered the tokens with dozens of completely different marks blazoned across them. “Different cultures find different games interesting?”
“You mean there is more than one type of flesh folk?” gasped Wisp, and their tendrils of energies waved about in a pantomime of confusion.
“Can’t you tell from looking at us?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. You’re all solid, and I bump into you instead of intermingling energies as I do with my kin. Doesn’t that make you all the same?” enquired Wisp, their flat tone bleeding out any hint of emotion.
“Now I think you’re the one playing a game, Wisp,” countered Amdirlain. “Are word games the only games beings from the Elemental Plane of Air play?”
“Not like we have anywhere to put playing pieces down,” observed Wisp.
Amdirlain picked out two matching tokens and set them at one end of the pile. “That’s one match. You can only pick up pieces that aren’t obstructed. If you run out of matches, you must mix up the pile and stack it back on the counter. The goal is the least number of remixes.”
Wisp ducked below the counter and returned with a series of wood boards with rules burnt onto them. Spreading them out at the end of the counter, the match set got placed upon a board whose script matched.
“The enchantment in the inn’s counter lets you read the instructions?”
“Mostly, though sometimes the meaning isn’t clear,” admitted Wisp.
With a wave, Amdirlain headed for the lift, and Wisp started to hum happily behind her.
In the suite, Amdirlain found Rasha looking through the library, but the others were still fast asleep.
“Did things go well?” asked Rasha, looking up from the book he’d been examining. A detailed full-page drawing showed a tree she didn’t recognise on one page, and the text on the other was written in Celestial.
“Not as well as I’d hoped.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“The lead for finding Torm dried up. It was set up by a priest of a rival God enjoying both tormenting Livia and causing waves. Caltzan is in service to an ancient Greater Power, and neither cared one bit what their stunt had cost Torm. They claim they’re good, but I’d say that’s relative to their culture alone. They only care about what is best for their nests,” shared Amdirlain.
“To be blind to the pain your actions cause another doesn’t seem to be good to me,” critiqued Rasha.
“Their belief is that the individual isn’t important; it’s the strength of the community that matters, and the individuals can be lost without regret,” replied Amdirlain, and she projected the memory of the conversation for Rasha.
“That is what their species look like?” questioned Rasha, his muzzle twitching.
Amdirlain nodded sharply and acknowledged the rage she still felt at their arrogant callousness.
“They look like monsters from old campfire tales,” observed Rasha. “Something to tell on a stormy night when troublesome cubs are particularly unsettled; it would ensure they’d scream loud and stick close to camp for many weeks afterwards.”
Snorting with laughter, Amdirlain settled into a chair across the library from him. “Are you alright with watching over my four little cubs?”
“It will be a chance to learn about another culture,” replied Rasha. “It’s odd the Githzérai challenge themselves by living in Limbo but seem to suppress the potential of their people by obstructing those that chase Tier 7.”
“We only know they were having their opportunities blocked; who knows if others were being supported in seeking a Tier 7. The monastery was out of favour with the Grand Master and potentially others in the hierarchy; I’m sure the answer won’t be clear cut,” commented Amdirlain.
“Politics,” hissed Rasha. “I’ll guard their back then, and step in only at dire need.”
“I’ll set up some items to protect them from Negative energies and diseases without any defensive protections. That should alleviate some of the undead’s general dangers while still retaining the challenge of fighting them. The largest Darvakka I fought was dangerous enough without being able to syphon my health right out of me.”
Rasha tsked. “Why not let them stand on their own feet? They’re already stronger than many that have taken Tier 5 Prestige classes. Ilya started towards her Tier 7 fighting foes among similar ruins; they’re already a large part of the way there.”
“Fine, just—after Zenya’s death,” sighed Amdirlain, and she stopped to fidget with one book he’d set on the table.
“You’re understandably protective of them. I’ll keep alert for trouble and let you know if anything beyond what I can handle shows up. Cemna is a world you can easily reach,” noted Rasha. “I promise to contact you first if the opposition seems beyond us.”
“Thank you, Rasha,” said Amdirlain.
“I know you have things that only you can deal with, but at least I can guard your friends,” said Rasha. “What are your immediate plans?”
“Besides evolving skills and experimenting with cleansing fallen of corruption?”
Rasha winked. “Besides those. Ebusuku said you always have a long to-do list.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I need to push my combat skills and resistances, and I want to check in on the Formithian worlds to see if they’re pushing other species to the brink of extinction,” admitted Amdirlain.
“They are happy to consume all a world’s opportunities solely for their use?” frowned Rasha. “I find it strange that the rules allow it, yet they are still considered good.”
“They don’t act from malice but are doing what they see as necessary to ensure their species prospers,” admitted Amdirlain begrudgingly. “Still, I’m inclined to help the odds in favour of those they’ll overrun. They shouldn’t take over worlds from other species when they have members of their Pantheon able to create new ones.”
Rasha’s brows lifted. “Are you able to find these worlds?”
“I could hear various worlds’ music within the faith bridges extending from the deity. I’ll see if the shakiest ones provide connections to worlds with a controlling pantheon,” explained Amdirlain as she rose. “I’ll leave you to your reading.”
Letting herself out of a suite’s upper door, Amdirlain walked around the rooftop. Sticking to a measured pace, she walked the garden’s pathways and meditated on the songs she’d heard.
Filtering through the racket within the memory, it took several hours to separate the weakest of the divine bridges. Those she found seemed almost lost among the background noise of the other planar links. Compared to the vast connections Aogruco possessed to their older worlds, the weakest she found were barely fraying rope bridges against a continent’s expanse.
Analysis of the first half-dozen weakest connections provided information on worlds awash with various species and proclaimed different controlling pantheons. Though she could potentially send something through to study the Formithian’s behaviour, they weren’t worlds where Amdirlain could provide much help. She could hear the various worlds’ songs but couldn’t reach across the Gate’s threshold.
Trying Analysis on the seventh world link had Amdirlain stop and review the details, a smile dancing on her lips.
[World: Votari
Age: 3.9 billion years
Sun: G-Type (yellow dwarf)
Landmass Type: Pangea, with an archipelago of volcanic islands in the northern hemisphere
Average diameter: 14.2 thousand kilometres (Earth-type)
Planetary Orbit: 382.4 days
Tilt: 24.7%
Environmental range: Deserts to permanent ice packs
Status: Young, developing
Local civilisation advancement levels:
Cultural: Hunter and Gatherer Tribes / Pastoral Communities
Technology achieved: Copper age
Magical advancement: Cantrips & poor quality potions
Local primary species (averaged population percentage of total sapient species):
Cat-folk, local variants (10%)
Dwarven, local variants (12%)
Elven, local variants (9%)
Giants, local variants (2%)
Hobgoblin, local variants (29%)
Orc, local variant (25%)
Sahuagin, local variant (11%)
Other groups (< 1.5%)
Intruder species:
Formithian (<0.5%)
Population: 320 million
Incursion Status:
Minor (Formithian celestials and natural elementals)
Local Pantheon Status:-
Classification: Unstructured
Priest Types: Shamans only
Worship Types: nature spirits, ancestral spirits, no Mantle holders.
Foreign Pantheon Status:
Formithian Pantheon: Organised. Insufficient worshipers to assert dominance. ]
So many species without pantheons at work. How do they set them up to evolve if they’re just planting seeds of potential life, as Gail remembered from the forge room? How many more didn’t get this far?
[Analysis [S] (27->28)]
Trying other songs, Amdirlain received the same range of information on a dozen worlds that all showed local pantheons contesting their homes.
Returning to her consideration of Votari, Amdirlain used its name to open a Gate and look out across a swollen river into a thick forest. Though it wasn’t raining, thick thunderclouds blocked most of the sunlight. The Gate’s threshold kept the atmosphere from crossing, but Amdirlain still imagined the clean smell left behind by the rain.
The Gate was at the top of a steep embankment that dropped to a muddy, swift-flowing river. The water licked at the top of the river bank on the far side, and streamlets wound through the forest beyond. Though there was a low ground cover of broad-leafed bushes about a metre in height, most trees didn’t have a branch below two metres, letting her see deep into the forest between the trunks. The trees were all of one species—straight trunks with rough steel-grey bark and greenish-blue needle leaves.
A sharp crack split the post-storm quiet and drew Amdirlain’s attention away from examining the trees ahead of her. Movement at the forest’s edge caught her eye as a groaning sound announced a toppling tree. Two massive brown ants—the size of ponies—hurriedly backed away from the path of its fall; the largest of the duo flicked its head about, and its pincers shed sap and wood.
Once the tree’s fall was complete, it stretched across the river—the last three metres of the tree dug into the embankment’s hard-pack soil. Though the current caused the tree to shift somewhat, it quickly settled. Even before its movement stopped, the same Giant Ant started work on another slightly upstream of the first stump. While it weakened the trunk, the other stood on the riverbank, its antennas waving about, seeking scent trails.
There was no obstruction to Amdirlain’s Telepathy reaching through the Gate and studying the ants’ minds. Their focus was on finding a higher location for their colony; the need to get above the recent watery peril was the dominant concern in their minds.
Masking her auras and scent, Amdirlain stepped across the threshold and took in the fresh aroma of the world. A smell similar to cut pine wafted to her from downriver, mingling with the rich loam and the clean air.
[Achievement: Lower regions cherry popper
Details: You are Votari’s first Abyssal incursion. Congratulations!
Note: It doesn’t make it any easier for others to find or access the world.]
Closing the Gate, Amdirlain flew straight up to get a clear view. The dark clouds overhead prompted her to cast a barrier against potential lightning strikes.
Hovering a hundred metres in the air, she turned slowly and swept Resonance ahead of her in a narrow band to reach out as far as possible.
Examining the landscape, Amdirlain found the ants’ path was towards forested hills whose highest peaks were four hundred metres above the river’s water line. Hundreds of minor tributaries thickened the river as it curved into the pine forest that stretched beyond her vision’s range. The treetops slowly ebbed lower the further the river ran, confirming the landscape’s general downward trend.
The subtle themes that Amdirlain had found in the soil on Grohtan were abundant within the ground. The research opportunity it afforded Amdirlain brought forth a smile, but she took a poke at Gideon.
“Gideon, I think your glitter ball shape has you sex obsessed.”
Amdirlain considered some possibilities but decided not to shoulder the work herself. “Moradin, if you come to a world, does that mean your pantheon automatically comes with you? Because I’ve found a world that the Formithian species are colonising despite a primitive local populace, including some local dwarves. The world’s name is Votari.”
She’d felt Moradin’s attention on her from the start of the explanation, and upon providing the world’s name, he appeared beside her. The soot-stained forge apron tied around his waist fluttered in the wind.
“I was trying to find you a pristine world; instead, you rush off and find one yourself,” Moradin said, taking in the forest beneath them. “What’s this about the Formithian?”
Amdirlain kept her emotions from the record she stuck into a memory crystal and passed it to Moradin.
“Eyeless offal grazer,” growled Moradin, and he jammed the crystal into his apron’s pocket with a dissatisfied grunt. “If you ever speak to that scale-arse bastard again, do me a favour and mention my name. I’d like to know to stop in and have a word or twenty. At the very least, I’ll put them in their place where you can witness the show. The nerve of them, speaking on behalf of a certain songbird. Now, what’s this about wondering if my family would come with me? If we took over, you’d have as much trouble accessing here as Vehtë.”
“If they’re driving other species to extinction, I’d prefer getting the locals some help; the priority is getting them to the point they can stand up for themselves,” replied Amdirlain. Retrieving another memory crystal, she recorded details of the other worlds she’d checked on with Analysis and passed it to Moradin.
“They must have exploration teams looking for world gates in the Outlands,” grumbled Moradin. “Not exactly things you’ll stumble on accidentally in this number. Have you got Allegiance Bond still?”
Amdirlain nodded. “Yes, but I’ll have to be careful using it.”
“The whole de-aging I heard about? Pick the right Mortal, and that’s a benefit, not a problem. Let’s find some mortals and have a friendly chat,” stated Moradin. “Are you going to insist on meeting the elves, or can I talk you into some nice dwarven company?”
“Elves live longer,” noted Amdirlain. “Plus, I learnt about the bet you and Ebusuku have going about getting me to take on a form with a beard.”
Moradin rubbed his nose in a futile attempt to hide his broad grin. “Bah, you’re no fun at all. Though we don’t know what the locals are like, they might be a piece of work, like the gold elves.”
“We could be in the same situation with the dwarves. After all, they’re local variants, cut off from your guiding influence,” teased Amdirlain, amusement lighting up her gaze.
Stroking his moustache to hide another smile, Moradin shrugged. “Care to place a bet?”
“No betting, I'm just putting forward a possibility.” countered Amdirlain, holding back her laughter. “Gail takes on dwarven form frequently enough for both of us.”
“Weak sauce,” huffed Moradin.
“With small communities and tribes spread worldwide, do you have any suggestions for finding them?”
Moradin smirked, and a host of celestials appeared fanned around them. The cloudy day became bright with the light from thousands of blazing lantern archons and the angels’ gleaming wings. “Start surveying for Mortal tribes and settlements. Be wary of the Formithian’s presence on this world—work unseen.”
His instructions had the host turn invisible and scatter.
As he turned back to her, Amdirlain sighed. “Delegation has advantages.”
“It will take them a few weeks to complete the first stage of the survey. Did you want to know when they’ve found the first group or wait for the full result?”
“The full result. I want to learn as much as possible before contacting any mortals. I’ll flit about and collect songs from different environments,” said Amdirlain. “Thanks for your help.”
Moradin nodded. “Not getting back to your prisoners?”
“Not yet. I’m trying to avoid rushing the purification field, and the next experiments involve passing energy through the oath link to Moloch,” advised Amdirlain. “When I get that working, we’ll see what the corruption makes of his memories.”
“It’s a bit hard to coat a Demon Lord in more filth,” grunted Moradin, and with a wave, he vanished.
The host’s illumination of the sky had caused the ants to briefly skitter away into the forest, but with the dullness restored, the pair returned to work felling another tree.
“Rasha, I’ll be gone a while. If you go ahead with the trip to Cemna after they wake up, contact me when you return to the suite.”
With the Message dispatched, Amdirlain considered the surrounding forest. Not bothering to descend, she began to study the delicate interlocking themes of the region’s micro lifeforms. Her focus on its music caused thin wisps of sensation to brush across her perception. Their fragile strength was a thin spiderweb of coexistence through the terrain—their massive numbers were easily overwhelmed by weather changes. The magnitude of the world’s orchestra had her straining with Resonance to take in all the music within her range.
Rather than back off and make it more manageable, Amdirlain pushed to reach further still. Having only recently improved the Skill, a notification took her by surprise.
[Resonance [S] (77->78)]
Despite having developed Resonance filtering in the Abyss, the variety of microfauna caused the Power to strain. Amdirlain moved to hover within arm’s reach of the ground and the Power's area included more organisms. Taking a steadying breath, she turned the filtering off, and the intricate strands flooded her mind. She pushed to take it all in; from the various organisms living off cleaning the ants’ shells, to the bacteria in the soil.
The tsunami of details caused an automatic retraction of Resonance’s reach, and Amdirlain cursed and groaned. The din’s saving grace was that its wild beauty was far different from the Abyss’s harshness. With Resonance withdrawn to a few kilometres of terrain, Amdirlain’s mind swept through the details and strove to learn more. Half an hour in, another notification came, and she extended the Power out.
[Resonance [S] (78->79)]
After the buffeting was under control, she started towards the hills. Scouting through the region provided Amdirlain with increasing research material for True Song Architecture.
Following the path of the sun led her across hundreds of kilometres of hills, their abundant lifeforms pushing Resonance into steady increases. Eventually, she reached the edge of a broad grassland. Dozens of species of grazing animals ignored each other while crossing flooded waterways. The behaviour of multiple groups and the weather hinted at a seasonal migration.
Unlike the pine forest she’d travelled over, the grasslands had a broader diversity of plant life. A few dozen types of grasses mingled with wild grains, clover, and other herbs, while the streams hosted mosses, lichen, and a few varieties of fish and amphibious creatures. The great prowling cats that followed the migration treaded warily around the massive predators of the waters.
The stream of animals risked death, and Amdirlain saw hundreds perish to the two-headed lizards that filled the same niche on Votari as crocodiles on Earth. They didn’t move with the same explosive speed as crocodiles, but their ability to project a Water Bolt strong enough to shatter bone meant they had no need. Headshots stunning or killing those crossing upstream had their prey swept into their jaws.
The animals’ natural Spell forms appeared in the air before them, and Amdirlain had to resist the temptation to practice Spell Disruption. Studying them with True Sight showed the Mana coalescing along their spine, gaining its watery aspect before each bolt was cast.
At one crossing, Amdirlain found their counter.
On the shore, a gazelle-like beast tossed electrical strikes from its horns as it leapt between rocks downstream of the herd, avoiding the lizards’ return shots. Each leap triggered another pull of energy and caused bursts to bloom within the water. Lizards and fish near the strikes went belly up, and those lizards downstream indulged in cannibalism. While the river turned red and frothed with lizards fighting over the mass of food, the herds surged across the river.
Not all had turned from the lightning caster, and a lizard’s shot brushed his flank mid-leap; injured and deflected from his course, the male almost landed in the water. Scrambling upon landing, though wounded, it gathered itself and leapt higher still; the beast’s horns blazed blue and unleashed a bolt that fried its attacker’s eyes in their sockets. It landed on three feet and took awkward hops towards the crossing. Its defence of its herd mates and others inspired Amdirlain to brush it with a temporary regenerative song. The limp it had shown was gone by the time it made the crossing point and raced into muddy waters.
”Just don’t go killing any mortals, okay? I’m sure that will get me in more trouble,” murmured Amdirlain. “I’ve likely disappointed any documentary folks by healing you.”
Amdirlain turned back to the lizards and felt more bolts being fired. The formation of the rough spells drove her to narrow Resonance’s focus and single out an individual lizard. When its next bolt formed, she tracked the Mana’s course from its lower torso and the rush along its spine. Each vertebra added an element of the Spell into the raw Mana, and when the bolt formed between the beast’s heads, they twisted together to compress the Mana into the Spell form. The deliberate design of the beast rang clear, and Resonance presented the beast’s DNA floating in her mind and interlinked its music against the strand’s pairs and the characteristics she could sense.
[Resonance [S] (90->91)
True Song Architecture [S] (94->95)]
Her progress from letting the world’s music inundate her mind brought forth a pleased smile from Amdirlain.
Still floating above the blood-stained river, Amdirlain took the beast’s song apart. Halfway through the exercise, memories started to bubble up—she remembered what each element did and the reason for their design.
The creature was one that Ori had created, and the visibility of their Spell’s completion was deliberate to allow sapient species to study it.
“I remember when rock was young
Me and Sarah had so much fun
Holding hands and shaping worlds
Had an old gold skin and a place of my own.”
Her concealments stopped the animals from enduring the butchered classic and Amdirlain’s laughter.
“Talk about having lost my marbles. So does lots of species on a world mean Ori was here?”