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Abyssal Road Trip
286 - Broken Ones

286 - Broken Ones

Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands - Xaos

After introducing Cyrus to Wisp, Amdirlain discovered the inn listed eight as the suite’s full occupancy. With Cyrus issued a ward stone, Amdirlain returned to the rooftop and wandered through the garden, checking the plants’ health. When she finally settled on a bench, Amdirlain closed her eyes and enjoyed the sunlight washing over her skin.

The pleasant warmth contrasted with the oath links she held with the prisoners. Severing them from Moloch had seemed the safest course; while a possible means to injure him in the future, she would have left them open to being seized again. Yet, the very bond itself twisted her guts with distaste, despite its crystalline texture in her mind’s eye.

One of the prison’s crystals transmitted a clear image of the prisoners for Amdirlain to monitor their physical condition. Centring herself, she sent a tendril of Ki through an oath link and felt Cuiniel’s pained reaction in response. With a feather pattern fixed in her mind, she kept the energy drifting on the former Astral Deva’s energies in a chaotic state of flux. The song through the link warned when pressures grew too great, and she had to withdraw repeatedly to avoid the Fallen’s death.

One at a time, she sought the energy nodes within Cuiniel’s form and tested them for a pattern. The breeze Amdirlain stirred up caused the ash and dust of Cuiniel’s nature to rise into choking clouds within her energies.

“I’ll make you pay for this pain,” snarled Cuiniel, and the words echoed through the link to Amdirlain despite the vast distances separating them.

Amdirlain withdrew the Ki through the link. “Who caused you the first agony you remember, me, or the Abyss?”

“I’m missing memories, I’m sure of it. How do I know you’ve not tortured me for fun and made me forget?” accused Cuiniel.

“I’d never met you face to face before I captured you. Do you feel you have memories missing from before your fall? Torturing you isn’t my idea of fun, but plenty of demons would enjoy that, Cuiniel,” countered Amdirlain. “I’m trying to help you heal.”

“Trying to turn me back into a good lapdog,” sneered Cuiniel.

“Did you previously think yourself a lapdog?”

Cuiniel scratched her taloned fingers across the circle’s barrier, searching for a weakness. “No, because I was blind.”

“Were you blind, or has the Abyss blinded you? I’ve removed corruption from your body, but I wasn’t the one that put it in you,” stated Amdirlain. “The pain from my attempts to heal you is because the Abyss left you wounded.”

“I won’t be your puppet,” screamed Cuiniel, and she went back to futilely hammering the cell’s barrier.

Amdirlain gave a mocking laugh. “I hate puppets; I think they’re a touch creepy. Do you remember the site? Do you remember who dragged you into it? Why do you believe a Balor would help you? If It hadn’t been for a timely wish, you would have emerged a Demon, not a Fallen. That’s what they dragged you into—you didn’t go willingly. You’ve seen how Moloch treats them. Would you have enjoyed being a Greater Succubus?”

Cuiniel growled as rage mottled her skin.

[Seed Doubts (5->8)

Note: Faith isn’t a factor solely related to conviction and worship—belief in one’s memory is a foundation of identity.]

This is not a Power I ever wanted to improve.

As the notification bloomed, a flaw within Cuiniel’s energies let out a discordant screech. A memory of Moloch mentioning the same echoed up from within the flaw.

“Why would you help me?” snapped Cuiniel.

“You’re all test subjects for helping someone I care about,” retorted Amdirlain, looking to obscure that it was Torm she sought to help. “I’ll help you to learn how to help them more efficiently.”

“So you don’t care if you brainwash me to return to my former Liege,” accused Cuiniel. “My discussion with Moloch is a haze after that memory.”

“Your talk with Moloch I obliterated, since he manipulated you while you were drunk with pain. As for sending you back to your Liege, if that was my intention, I have a way to do that right now,” rebutted Amdirlain. “There would be nothing of you left, but they’d have their servant back.”

Amdirlain sent a memory through the link of purging memories and corruption from a Soul. She didn’t share the education process, nor the effort it had ahead of it, but the result was clear enough. Within that projection, she tried to get Seed Doubts to push against the flaws but got no further response.

Why didn’t it work against Rhithri? Was their faith too solid for my current capabilities? Does it work only when I’m verbally digging at someone’s beliefs?

Not that I’d expect to need this Power against a Celestial to sway them to see another’s pain, or the source of their own.

“That was one of the damned?” gasped Cuiniel. Her hand froze against the barrier, and shock rolled through the link.

“Stripping a Soul—or a former Celestial—of memories and sealing the flaws into a blank slate, there isn’t much difference,” remarked Amdirlain. “To be blunt, in less time than I’ve already spent on you, I could clean up the energies you’re composed of and return them to their planar origin. No matter how you batter and claw at the cell’s barrier, I’ve got the time to let you rest, recover, and think.”

Cuiniel paced about, looking around to determine if she was being scried upon. “Why don’t you then?”

“If you choose that option, I’ll do so now or ‌whenever you wish,” Amdirlain replied. “The choice is yours, but I’ve no intention of sending you as a blank slate back to your former Liege against your will. I’m trying to help you find a path to self-determination instead of being a puppet of the Abyss.”

“I’ve spent my entire existence slaving for another’s benefit; I want to hold what I earn for a change,” snarled Cuiniel. “Why should I believe your words?”

“I don’t enjoy the pain I cause you. The corruption had to be done fast. Yet today, have I drowned you in pain until you couldn’t think? I’ve been conscientious not to push beyond your limits. It might be easier to saturate you with positive energy until you explode. Then I could re-summon you into that circle and do the same again,” advised Amdirlain.

“Like I believe that,” scoffed Cuiniel.

Gritting her teeth, Amdirlain kept her concern from the link and flooded it with a wave of Ki. The energy drove down into Cuiniel's internal flaws, and her body came apart; ash, blood, and bone splattered the cell’s barrier.

Teleport positioned Amdirlain in the prison’s outer passage, and she started the summoning. In short order, Cuiniel was back within the cell, the haze of Ijmti lingering around her. Cuiniel’s flesh echoed from the trio of cataclysmic events: the rush of Ki rupturing her form, reformation on her Home Plane, and the shattered Planar Lock.

“I didn’t ask for that!” screamed Cuiniel.

Amdirlain avoided the oath link this time and projected words directly into Cuiniel’s mind. “Weren’t you asking for it? You said you didn’t believe it was possible, and I told you previously I didn’t expect you to believe my words. What better proof than experience? Is there any further proof you’d like today?”

“Only mortals can conduct a summoning, and they can’t hold oath links. Who are you working with?”

“Guess you don’t know as much as you believe. Could other beliefs be wrong, like the situation with your former Liege?” rebuffed Amdirlain, her words deliberately chosen to touch on faith. This time Amdirlain caught the echo of the empowered words; they didn’t strike at Cuiniel directly but caused a spike of self-talk within her that sprouted doubts and insecurities. That did the work, and for those without fertile ground for doubt, the Power might be next to useless.

[Seed Doubts (8->9)]

Amdirlain waited for the mental turmoil to slow before she reached out again. “Your choice— do you want me to keep filling you with such energy or take a gentler approach?”

Cuiniel grunted. “No more explosions. Why were you poking at me with that energy earlier? How can it be healing and not just torture?”

“I’m trying to find the sigil within your essence that defines you. Cycling energy through the pattern lets you see memories associated with flaws and the pain they introduced to your essence.”

“Sounds like you're hunting for a True Name, and you said you wouldn’t bind me,” accused Cuiniel.

“It’s not useful for binding, and it's a symbol with no use in a Spell,” advised Amdirlain. “Ever heard of self-reflection? It’ll aid you in discovering who you are as a being and getting past what others expected of you.”

“Say I believe you're not looking for a way to make me obey my former Liege again. Isn’t there a less painful way to go about this?” probed Cuiniel.

“I’ll let you know once I believe you might undertake it,” rebuffed Amdirlain, and she changed the subject. “I know you remember the anger you possessed with corruption in your being. Do you still feel that anger?”

“No, I’m in too much pain to feel anything else,” grumbled Cuiniel.

“Think about when that anger started. I’ll leave you be for now; we can talk once you’ve recovered,” replied Amdirlain, and she broke the mental link. Their proximity allowed the turmoil she’d evoked within to broadcast through the oath link. True to her word, Amdirlain left her to it.

Rather than return to Xaos, she opened a Gate to leave and stepped through to a nightmare sunlit landscape. Foul mud squealed beneath her feet, and a sulphurous stench dug at her nose. There wasn’t a single living song to be heard. Instead, the only music was that of material: dirt, rocks, acidic mud, chemically heavy groundwater, and a polluted atmosphere that no life Amdirlain was familiar with could survive.

Overhead drifting clouds bore no water vapour; their composition was a chemical cocktail that had evaporated from the planet’s lifeless oceans. With her high resistance to acid and poison, the toxic environment couldn’t dent her protections, but a Human would die fast and painfully.

Amdirlain drew out a crystal spike and added a song to relay details from the orbital system she’d set in place nearly a week ago. The orbiting spire reported her position, and with its connection to the other satellites, they provided a world map and marked her location. A map with hundreds of glowing planar links manifested from the crystal, and Amdirlain looked it over as it slowly turned for her consideration.

To the north was a tropical sea and a chain of volcanic isles that had contributed to the atmosphere’s destruction; with no plant life to counter the volcanic gases, chemical reactions and time did the rest.

Taking in her proximity to the closest found planar connection, Amdirlain raced towards the sunset. Resonance stayed focused on the ground as she travelled, hunting for incorporeal undead hidden from the daylight’s purging capabilities. Though she’d need to tend to them eventually, the first step she had planned was to seal the world from new arrivals.

[World:

Age: 4.6 billion years

Sun: G-Type (white-yellow dwarf)

Landmass Type: Large continents and tropical archipelagos.

Average diameter: 14.3 thousand kilometres (Deceased Earth-type)

Planetary Orbit: 367.4 days

Tilt: 27.8%

Environmental range: Desert to permanent ice packs

Status: Dead

Local civilisation advancement levels: N/A

Local primary species: N/A

Incursion Status:

Major (Demonic and natural elementals)

Local Pantheon Status:-

Classification: Deceased ]

An attempt with Analysis to gather information on planar connections provided no pushback, and Amdirlain soon had a tally to cross-check against her scanners.

[Planar Connections: 292

Gates:-

Major: 12

Intermediate: 37

Minor: 94

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Portals:-

Major: 6

Intermediate: 47

Minor: 96 ]

Given her scanner had provided the exact numbers, the ease seemed to correlate with the lack of new information.

Just mindless undead left, and they can’t reproduce without a source, so there is no species status for them. A count would have been handy.

The massive pit of ooze she’d found had created a natural attunement to the Para Elemental Plane of Ooze, the region of interaction between the elemental forces of Earth and Water. The Portal’s song was clear from where she hovered, so Amdirlain didn’t have to plunge into the muck to find it.

Without the inferno of corruption available, Amdirlain took a more surgical approach, the blade of a sustained note sliced across its harmonics, allowing the Portal’s forces to destabilise the connection. Despite the different approach, its detonation came with a notification similar to the others she’d destroyed.

[Planar Portal Shattered (Minor)

Material Plane to Para Elemental Plane of Ooze.

Total Experience gained: 200,000

Ostimë: +100,000

Ontãlin: +100,000 ]

“Cyrus, I’ll be away for a few hours.”

With the Message dispatched and knowing she’d only bought time before the mass of material re-attuned the landscape to the Plane, Amdirlain started teleporting. The next Gate was an intermediate one and netted her four hundred thousand. After that, the locations became a blur of shattered gates and portals, with no pause before leaping to the next.

A cavern filled with undead feeding off the energy from Orcus’ realm erupted in screams when a temporary Gate—that ran the cavern’s length—allowed sunlight to crush against them with purifying force. Thousands disintegrated, and the wounded scattered even as Amdirlain moved on. From kilometres away her song targeted the Gate, and more perished in the explosion.

Though she’d hoped to hear all the songs in person, Teleport returned her to her arrival point on this world. From there, Amdirlain took a safer approach for the rest, targeting the music her orbital surveyors had isolated for her. When the last Gate disappeared from the projected map, she dismissed the experience notification only for one she hadn’t expected to appear.

[Achievement: Planar Isolationist

Details: Completely isolated a world from the outside influence of planar energies. The lack of existing planar connections prevents the occurrence of natural planar attunement for a century. The planet will transform any elemental creatures into local entities or absorb them into its ambient energy.

Undead and other elemental abominations can no longer draw on their respective Elemental Plane to sustain themselves, so they’ll fade in hours unless they find a food source.

Reward: 20,000,000 experience points]

Focused on the World’s Profile, Amdirlain pushed on True Song to override the theme.

[Achievement: World Namer

Details: You know what you did, princess!

Reward: Naming a world is prize enough, little one.

Note: You are the only individual who can open a Gate to this world until its new name is discovered.

True Song Genesis [Ap] (15->16)]

“Get with the program, Gideon. I’m not taking your Imperial Princess transformation, even if it takes me hundreds of years longer.”

Amdirlain tallied up the experience that she’d netted. Combined with the achievement and undead entities she’d directly killed, the effort had netted over one hundred and eleven million for a few hours of work.

“Broken worlds and broken celestials, I snaffle up all the fun projects,” murmured Amdirlain, and she focused on shifting back to the clean air and sunshine of the Outlands.

[Planar Shift (Self) [Ap] (3->4)]

To a certain degree, the undeveloped Power made her landing site random. Her targeting of any location made it accurate to plus or minus five hundred kilometres in any direction on a horizontal plane. She could appear anywhere in that area as long as her arrival point wasn’t in the middle of something.

What it didn’t prevent was her appearing between objects.

The Dryad’s long dark green hair swayed in the slight breeze caused by Amdirlain’s displacement. Her lush lips, close enough to touch Amdirlain’s own, drew into a frown as Amdirlain waited. Her red eyes matched the colour of her lips and the inconspicuous flowers hidden in the oak tree’s foliage behind her. Amdirlain would have expected the Oak tree to have female and male flowers. Instead, the tree bloomed solely female, entwined with the Dryad's song, as energy flowed both ways to influence each other.

“Is the male yours?”

“Why do you ask?” asked Amdirlain, taking in the heated music of the grove about her.

Wrapped up in their enticing allure, a male Lizardfolk swayed behind Amdirlain. Positioned in the hollow between them, one of his outstretched arms jutted past her side while his snout protruded above her head.

“We only wanted to borrow him for a short time,” sighed the Dryad, and she smiled whimsically at Amdirlain. The Charm effect her words contained slid off Amdirlain without catching in the slightest, yet the Dryad persisted. “Surely you can spare him for a year or five?”

The figure was like many Lizardfolk she’d seen about Xaos, but his heavily armoured form loomed over her elven one by forty centimetres or more. She could hear the Fighter and Priest Class themes within his song barely in their twenties. In the centre of his steel breastplate was the emblem of the Platinum Dragon, emblazoned in an ornate style.

“I’m pretty sure his Liege needs his services,” demurred Amdirlain.

“We just want to borrow him. We’ve not had a male pass close in so long; none of us has sprouted for scores of years,” complained the Dryad.

“I could point some males knowing what to expect your way,” suggested Amdirlain, and she silently shattered the Charm to clear his mind. When the Spell broke, the reptilian started and backed away from them. Hissing in confusion and surprise, he readied his shield but didn’t draw the hooked sword at his waist or unsheathe his long claws.

The Dryad’s frown deepened. “But he’s here now; others might not come.”

“I’m pretty sure Bahamut has something he needs to handle,” countered Amdirlain. While Amdirlain felt the pressure of Bahamut’s awareness, the Dryad remained oblivious to the attention. Within the fragment of Bahamut’s consciousness that focused on them, Amdirlain caught a hint of dry amusement.

“He made some muttering about wanting Bahamut to aid him. I thought he meant ensuring his vigour,” pouted the Dryad.

“You don’t need intercourse, do you?” asked Amdirlain. “It’s the life energy you need. The act unleashes that energy for you to absorb, but it's the energy that helps you sprout.”

“Of course, but it's more fun when the seedlings get to take root in a spot properly dug up,” laughed the Dryad. Around the grove, other dryads emerged from oaks, though only the closest Dryad had a link to these trees.

Like the first, they all had mint green skin and red eyes too large for their face, with hair that ranged from dark mahogany to deep crimson. None of them wore any clothing, and they had crafted their few pieces of jewellery from polished wood and woven tendrils.

The Dryad was still uncomfortably close, but with the reptilian fellow no longer at her back, Amdirlain had space to move.

Before she could protest, Amdirlain touched a fingertip against the Dryad’s sternum and pushed a surge of Ki energy into her. The Dryad’s deep red gaze suddenly had blazing golden pupils before she blinked, and they returned to black.

“Oh,” gasped the Dryad.

As she swayed on her feet, the energy flared life into existence within her, and the excess bloomed through her pleasure centres from her feet to the top of her head. Her species’ unique biology sought to utilise and store as much as possible, causing the Dryad to grow a hand span taller.

“Sister?” enquired another Dryad, looking at the first in amused concern.

The Dryad undulated against Amdirlain’s touch, and Amdirlain retreated to arm’s length. Only to have to put a hand against the Dryad’s sternum to keep her from pursuing.

“Oh, that was sunshine through my mind. You should stay,” stated the first Dryad, nodding enthusiastically though she was wobbling on her feet. “The male can go, but you should ‌stay. Please stay; we’ll all make you happy.”

“One push of energy for each in need, and then we’ll leave without protest or trouble from you,” declared Amdirlain, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake with the offer. The foetus' song was a tiny copy of her mother’s, and Amdirlain almost breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t provided an Anar with a parent.

The second Dryad who’d spoken stepped back into her tree and emerged closer to Amdirlain with her hand timidly extended. “Me next.”

Another stepped out of the same tree and clasped her hand on the other’s shoulder. “No, me.”

“I’ve energy for you both. How many in your grove?” asked Amdirlain.

The pair's songs were so similar that with their near-identical features, Amdirlain took them to be twins.

“Six, of course,” breathed the first, a light flora aroma flooding the grove from her.

“It’s not of course to one who doesn’t know our ways,” countered a new arrival with scarlet hair that nearly touched the ground despite the braid that lifted it above her head.

“Yes, Mother,” the others chorused.

“Your gift is welcome, old one. We thank you for your generosity,” said their Mother.

Analysis returned names for each of them that Amdirlain didn’t know how to pronounce. Each impressed a concept of seasons and a tree’s growth experiences that would have taken a full minute or more each to sound out.

Not wanting to share her name, Amdirlain just nodded politely and reached out to clasp the forearms of both protesting sisters at once. The rush of energy raced through each and tried to complete the circuit where they touched before it fed back on itself, leaving them wide-eyed and up on tippy toes.

“Old one?” asked the first.

Their Mother gave her a sad head shake. “Daughter, if you can’t sense her age from the life force that runs through you, you are lust-blind.”

The pair had recovered during the exchange and retreated through the tree they’d used before to avoid being drawn into the discussion. Amdirlain could hear another tree a kilometre away spill them forth and stopped tracing them.

The older Dryad stepped back into the tree she had emerged from and reappeared to rest a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Go get your sister; she’s spire wards monitoring the chaotic ones. Keep yourself well clear.”

When her daughter disappeared, she turned to regard Amdirlain. “While there are six of us, only four are enduring the drive to sprout. What might we do for you in return, old one?”

Amdirlain considered the younger Dryad’s song leaping towards the Outland’s central spire while briefly considering her answer.

“There isn’t anything I need, but I could resolve your situation and release your guest. I count that a fair exchange,” demurred Amdirlain. Keeping composed, she looked back at the fellow she’d rescued. “Though I’d prefer you not Charm your guests in the future.”

“Some males are initially hostile or reluctant to leave; charming them is for our safety.”

“Your safety?”

The Dryad gestured at herself and then pointed at her daughter’s guest. “If they might become hostile later, we need to know if we can influence them to leave.”

“That’s fine, if you weren’t also using it to force a choice,” stated Amdirlain.

Looking between them in confusion, the Dryad clicked her tongue. “Why would they not stay?”

Damn, I should have held off on the bribes.

“There are a lot of males out there that I’m sure wouldn’t mind staying for a time. I’d like you to consider that forcing them could harm them or someone counting on them,” said Amdirlain. “I’m not asking you to agree with me, but consider it and try to find a better way. You’re looking to propagate your species, but keeping someone here could cost a life.”

Amdirlain left it at that and waited for the last Dryad to appear. After she provided their Ki burst, she turned her back on the dryads and headed to where he’d waited, calmly watching them.

Standing fully upright, his hulking form loomed at two hundred and seventy centimetres. A narrow, dull-grey and scaled snout jutted from under the helm’s lower edge, guiding her attention to the alligator gaze fixed on her. His muzzle was where the most scales were visible in one place with steel plate armour enclosing most of his body, the only exceptions being his long-fingered hands and velociraptor-style feet.

Since she’d broken him free of the Charm, he’d kept his shield ready but only rested a hand on the thick hilt of his jagged-tooth sword. A blade sat in an arrangement more like a v-shaped holder than a proper sheath.

[Name: Goxashru

Species: Dracoychrus

Class: Fighter / Priest

Level: 22 / 22

Health: 704

Defence: 97

Faith: 38

Magic: 32

Mana: 1,590

Melee Attack Power: 104

Combat Skills: Long Blades [Ad] (19), Claws [Ad] (23), Tail [Ad] (17) - Various blessings

Details: Having achieved sufficient progress towards the threshold of the first Tier of Prestige classes, he followed the old custom of a vision quest. After gathering the materials for the meditation hide, he spent a week buried under the scorching sands outside his home city to determine his life's course. Emerging with an easily translated vision, he got equipped and dispatched the same day, out among the planes. Fortunately for him, events aligned, and Nexus nearly dropped Amdirlain in his lap before the sexual congress began.

Note: It could have been worse. At least you didn’t get to invoke coitus interruptus. Well, not this time.]

[Entity Name: Nexus

Details: Primary Aspect of the Concept of Dimensions, responsible for administering gates, portals, teleports, planar shifts, etc.

Note: Who do you think shifted your Home Plane during your first ascension? Or nudged your course to Claughuthruuazex? I’m not actually in charge of that stuff, just knowledge and classes, since they involve learning. The shifty lady that Nexus is, she’s far less rule-bound than you made me.]

Goxashru released his sword and tapped his claws against his chest. “I thank you for the rescue. My name is Goxashru. My clan would have been very disappointed with me if they found I had mate-bonded to a Dryad.”

“I perhaps arrived completely accidentally, but one can never tell when prayers to primordials are involved,” replied Amdirlain, and she indulged her curiosity. “Do your people mate for life?”

“Yes, do yours not?” enquired Goxashru, his tongue jutting slightly over the front of his fang-toothed snout.

“There are many beings in the realm; I try not to assume customs,” replied Amdirlain, and she resisted the urge to point out that the potential for harm came in many forms to the dryads. “Where are you headed?”

“Lord Bahamut sent me a dream; my mentor believes the place I seek is Xaos,” explained Goxashru.

“I can help you get there, but might I ask what you seek in Xaos?”

“The golden Elf who sits in the sunshine atop a building of clouds,” declared Goxashru. “I’m not sure how they would stay atop it, but that’s all I know.”

Amdirlain coughed. “The Blazing Portal is an inn that looks built of clouds, and I’ve currently got the rooftop suite to meditate in the sunlight. It seems someone, or perhaps your boss, took the opportunity to shortcut your search. Did he refer to me as the golden one?”

“I didn’t hear any words. It was all a soundless vision. I described the town to my mentor, and she recognised Xaos from the script above the inverted keep.”

“Alright, so any idea why he sent you my way?” enquired Amdirlain.

Goxashru clicked his snout before he spoke. “I felt I was supposed to offer my services as your talon.”

“That’s a cultural reference you’ll need to explain, I’m afraid,” admitted Amdirlain.

“Upon my world, our greater kin have talon servants to go where they cannot go without using magic to shapeshift. Do you need a talon to reach places you can’t?” enquired Goxashru.

“Potentially; what is the name of your home world?”

“The ancient ones proclaim its name to be Vrantvrak,” advised Goxashru.

Analysis quickly returned details of the world, and the incursion section wasn’t a surprise.

“Can you tell me about the formithians?”

“Why are you interested in them?” asked Goxashru. “Travellers first sighted their nests in the great desert years before I hatched; the maggots are annoying but hardly interesting.”

“Have they caused any trouble?”

“Aside from being so ugly, they give some hatchlings nightmares?” jested Goxashru.

“Have they intruded into anyone’s territory?”

“Those desert grubs would not dare. Traders can meet them at markers upon the dunes but dislike their betters coming near their nests. According to the tales, they trade with minerals and treasures recovered from far beneath the sands.”

“There have been no reports of fighting with them at all?” asked Amdirlain.

“They are such a small foe I doubt anyone would want to lose face by hunting them,” replied Goxashru. “After all, they are but the length of my arm and not even worth drawing a sword to cleave in two.”

Amdirlain froze in surprise. “They’re how small?”

“The length of my arm. What size had you expected them to be?”

“Given all the trouble they’ve caused on other worlds, I had expected them to be larger,” admitted Amdirlain.

Goxashru flexed his claws in an oddly feline gesture. “Trouble on other worlds?”

“I’ll explain more about them when we’re in Xaos. Are you ready to go?”

“I have a magic trinket that can point us to the Portal beneath its hill,” offered Goxashru, reaching for a pouch on his belt.

No sooner had he spoken than Amdirlain had them standing on the dirt road just outside the wards.

“Or not,” huffed Goxashru, and he flicked his fingers off to one side dismissively. “Oh well, at least my mentor's enchantment led me in the right direction for a day.”