Amdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Qil Tris - Year 4370 (Local calendar)
Even with Sarah working on the weakest, it took five days to catch twenty Eldritch isolated enough to take them out without risking others. The last nine proved more elusive, and Amdirlain spent weeks clearing out hundreds of sites of black stone to remove their bolt holes. Sarah’s insistence on care had Amdirlain continually keeping mental tabs on the team she worked with, listening for signs of betrayal. Mor'lmes hadn't entirely removed their vulnerability to psionics despite making some mental defence improvements.
Amdirlain arrived early at a meeting point and found three observers in the monitoring station. They had adorned the walls of the converted apartment with maps and images of their current and past targets. A few desks with metal displays sat in the middle of the living room floor, and the adjoining kitchen had packages of ready-to-eat meals stacked on the bench.
The observers wore their usual grey-on-grey attire, providing good camouflage and a typical business casual look. There was a female with russet fur, a male with a blend of brown and turquoise, and a male with a dark bluish-purple colour. Images of her True Form’s appearance ran through their minds, and she caught the circulation of image traces that had occurred.
The russet-furred female had white splotches visible along her throat when she looked up at Amdirlain’s entrance. “Afternoon, J; Mor’lmes won’t be here for another forty minutes at least.”
The off-balance strength of the lady's classes roused Amdirlain’s curiosity.
[Name: Mar’gold, Whiteshield pride
Species: Catfolk (variant)
Class: Wizard / Alchemist / Soldier / Synergist
Level: 45 / 69 / 41 / 57
Health: 2,120
Defence: 320
Magic: 172
Mana: 19,494
Combat Attack Power: 126
Combat Skills: Short Blades [Ad] (2), Various affinities and spell lists.
Details: A graduate of the Triumvirate Campus, after a half-decade in the military she retired to work in her pride’s alchemical processing facility. Attracted by the odd behaviour of a relative, her investigation had her cross paths with Mor’lmes’ observers. ]
Whiteshield, I never intruded further into the situation with Tulne’s killer. Maybe that’s for the best.
[Synergist
This Class uses a combination of wizardry and alchemy to create tools that can be used in situations from combat to everyday life.]
“I’m aware of that, Mar’gold. Thanks, but I thought I’d get here with plenty of time to spare,” replied Amdirlain.
The males tensed at Amdirlain’s use of her name, but Mar’gold only twitched. “I didn’t know Mor’lmes had shared our names, or that those who can teleport needed to worry about arriving late.”
“Please. Mor’lmes share anything with me besides grumbles? That's not happening,” laughed Amdirlain. “It gives me time to share my latest recon and clean up information for someone to put into the mix.”
Feeling like being a troll, Amdirlain activated a crystal disc and set it on the closest desk. An image of the planet appeared a half metre above it, and she zoomed in on the local region of the allied territories. Bright red dots appeared at all the bolt holes she’d cleared up, and yellow ones showed the remaining distortion sites.
“Was the first image of our world from above?” gasped Mar’gold.
“Yes, though it’s the same image, just focused on the problem spots like a magnifying glass. We had to clean up spots in neighbouring countries, but the remaining infections are all in the territories,” explained Amdirlain. "It means we'll have to watch for sigils further afield."
“Aren’t we lucky,” groaned the turquoise male. “Dav’rik, Goldtrail pride, nomads.”
The dark-furred male looked at the other two as if they were slightly insane before he shrugged. “Pallas, my pride isn’t from the territories, not that I expect our lineages interest you.”
Amdirlain caught the theme of a Class she recognised from him. “I like to know who I’m working with. I’ve only talked to one other person with the Matriarch’s Guard. What about their training warrants a Class separate from Soldier?”
Blinking at her question, Pallas gave a helpless shrug. “Maybe the rigorous training to work independently behind enemy lines? Who knows what even gives us classes? According to legends, the enchantment to see someone’s record got stolen from a God’s temple. Yet the gods are dead, and the classes live on.”
Interesting. I’ll have to see if I can learn more. I wonder if the God’s followers created an imprint stone.
“Your world’s gods never controlled the classes. At most, they would have influenced them through local conditions,” responded Amdirlain.
Her bluntness took Pallas aback, and as his gaze narrowed, his tail thumped against the side of his desk. “I don’t know what to think about you. Part of me wants to laugh in disbelief, but I’ve been in the training complexes, looked up at their alien skies, and fought creatures there we’ve never heard of previously. Mor’lmes has said he saw you create at least some content in one. However, since you can read minds, how do we know you can’t just insert memories?”
Amdirlain grinned at the memory. A patron family had seized the crystal from Wha’sin, so Amdirlain hadn’t just followed up on her warning. She’d upped the ante. She’d overridden every receiver in the city and provided a calm notification of what would happen. The same day, friendly coloured crystal spheres had floated about the city, asking questions and giving prizes. From children’s stuffed toys, clothing, drinks, and groceries to alchemical components and metal ingots.
Amid the confusing days of those little ‘seeker’ orbs floating about asking questions and randomly giving prizes for responses, she’d interrupted a meeting. This time, the meeting had been between him and some observers, and he’d snapped at her, demanding answers.
Before he could blink, Mor’lmes sprawled to the dusty ground of one of the demi-plane frames she’d set up. The only light was the glowing depiction of a starry sky overhead. However, it was kilometres away, with a diversion barrier to prevent any flyer from reaching it.
As Amdirlain had silently sung them into existence, he got to his feet amid sprouting flora and saw a nearby lake bed filled with water. He’d seen giant crabs glow as they came into existence and burrow themselves in newly created sand. His Mana Sense had seen nothing until some of the largest crabs started to fight each other with shell-cracking water bolts. It had been a lesson learnt for Amdirlain to create the predators' food first.
She’d hopped them from place to place across a demi-plane whose terrain, at least, she’d modelled roughly on mainland Australia. Amdirlain had let him get an experience rush from killing a hundred feral harpies and dumped him in a lake. Spluttering and soaking wet, she’d sent him home.
Sarah having to re-summon her to Quil Tris had been a minor inconvenience.
“In case you’ve forgotten, I can erase memories,” responded Amdirlain, and she grinned. “I can insert them with equal ease. I’m happy for you to take whatever I share with you as an intellectual exercise. Hear me out and then figure out how to prove me wrong or what I’m leaving out. Ask your questions.”
As Pallas shook his head sceptically, Dav’rik took her challenge and chimed in. “Who even sent you here? You destroy and create with equal ease, but what are you? Who sent you to deal with the Eldritch?”
“What questions do you want answered? I’ve been avoiding religious inferences out of respect for your people’s struggles,” replied Amdirlain.
“A God sent you,” accused Pallas, though his mind contained no connection between her True Form and celestials.
Consequences of lost knowledge shielding me? They didn’t know about the outer planes.
Amdirlain laughed. “No. That doesn’t stop people from misunderstanding the situation, hence my silence.”
“Then how do you speak about our former gods with such certainty?” persisted Pallas with unrelenting suspicion.
Her smile disappeared as she waved a reproving finger. “Jumping into assumptions. I don't know about them. I know the entity that manages the classes across every habitable world. They don’t need worship to exist, and they certainly wouldn’t give complete control of classes to local entities. However, they recognise unique local situations and add or change classes to suit so that individuals can progress.”
Dav’rik spoke up, his soft words still cutting off Pallas’s angry response. “What is the purpose of classes?”
His question wasn’t because he believed her; he’d simply taken her words about treating it as an intellectual exercise to heart and sought fallacies.
“They have various purposes. Overall? To recognise someone’s efforts and allow them to exceed their starting point,” replied Amdirlain.
“Our ancestors killed the gods that had prides slaughtering each other, and you’re telling us there is something more powerful out there,” Pallas growled in frustration.
“You're assuming all the greater beings are like the gods your people formed,” cautioned Amdirlain. "Or are you annoyed something didn't come in and take them out first?"
Pallas spluttered. “People form gods?”
“Some gods, and it can happen instantly or take generations,” noted Amdirlain. “Others are self-actualising.”
“But how?” whispered Dav’rik, leaning forward on his chair.
“Are you sure you want to know?” asked Amdirlain, lifting her brows sceptically.
Dav’rik’s whiskers twitched about before he finally nodded. “It's an intellectual exercise, right? I’ll always wonder what story you might have told if I don’t continue with it.”
“Story is right,” grumbled Pallas.
"There is a difference between wondering and knowing," warned Amdirlain.
"Please," persisted Dav’rik.
Amdirlain looked at the others. "Anyone not want to know?"
Mar’gold shrugged. “We won’t know for sure, and we’re all wizards. Whatever you share will give us a topic for debate when things are slow. Your mental abilities make it hard to take anything you say or do at face value.”
It wasn’t a clear objection, so Amdirlain gave them a minute to speak up. When their attention simply remained on her, Amdirlain started. “Mana flows let power accumulate in nexus or loci points. They can cause weird effects, morph creatures, let minor spirits manifest, or open natural breaches to elemental planes. Faith allows individuals to channel energy from and to the being they worship, enabling them to cause a Divine Mantle to form if exercised at the right place or time."
“Someone just prayed to a spirit or place, and a God came about?” asked Dav’rik.
Amdirlain considered how to explain, and a particular example came to mind.
“Let's go with a simple example. One of these individuals with high natural Faith capacity stumbles on a loci point, dying of thirst, so their focus is on the need for water. It’s a rough Spell formation that, if formed by yourself alone, wouldn’t do a thing, but the loci’s connection to the world causes water to bubble up from the ground. They’re saved and wonder what gracious entity took mercy on them.”
Pallas scoffed, but Dav’rik’s focus didn’t relent. “How is that a God? It’s just a conflux of Mana, reaching to a mental pattern.”
“Not if you don’t have the Mana Sense that the Wizard Class provides,” countered Amdirlain. "People often wonder why, and if they don't have an answer, their imagination is powerful."
“Still, it can’t be that simple,” persisted Pallas.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“I'm simplifying it, with no spirit or basic entity involved. The person prays some more, maybe even aloud, while focused on more water for their dying family or cattle. Their Faith channels Mana in the area into the effect, and more water appears.” continued Amdirlain. “You end up with an entity revered as the God of an oasis, mercy, plenty, or something else.”
Dav’rik frowned. “That seems like a bit of a jump.”
“I jumped many steps. But that first event, with the person having strong Faith, is enough to reinforce their simple belief. This event might be a once-in-a-thousand-year event with people continually travelling through the area. That night, when they dream, maybe they gain a primitive Shaman Class or something else and decide to accept. The Class’s nature lets them feel the place’s power, and things go from there. Their people stay and maybe give the place a name, and in a few generations, a proto-god comes about and starts to reply to them.”
Pallas frowned, and his ears lay flat. “That doesn’t explain other gods.”
Amdirlain waggled a finger. “I said it was a simple example. Given all the required factors, it’s also the least likely to come about. It gets more likely if a spirit is involved that can encourage things. Something aware enough to respond and give signs that reinforce the belief, or maybe cause the water to erupt from the ground or air.”
“The name lets their prayers be heard elsewhere?” questioned Mar’gold.
“And gives their belief an agreed focus for others to use, making it more likely to transform,” agreed Amdirlain. “Rituals get created because people are trying to please their benefactor. Things become formalised, and future generations get the Priest Class instead. The example can get dark if they’re trying to kill something or someone instead of dying of thirst.”
“In the middle of a hunt,” murmured Pallas thoughtfully. “Visualising your strike landing true.”
“Or a battle for your life, standing on a nexus point putting your all into the blow,” offered Dav’rik.
Mar’gold winced, and her ears lay flat. “Or in a fit of jealous rage.”
Amdirlain nodded. “Anyway, that’s where it can get dark, especially if a spirit is involved and it gets fascinated by the death energy released. It might want more blood or the violence that went along with it. You could end up with a God of hunting, war, or murder.”
“So, ours had gained a taste for blood sport?” asked Pallas.
“Are you assuming that’s what it was? I can think of other options, but it was nearly five thousand years ago, and I’ve not looked into your history,” replied Amdirlain.
Pallas frowned. “What other options?”
“Your people are very pride-focused; what if the gods had picked up territorial aspects from your ancient people?” asked Amdirlain.
“Gods from different regions with the same purpose clashing?” enquired Pallas, looking discomforted.
“A possibility, but regardless of the reason, if your gods did continually pursue a bloody conflict over mortals, they got what they deserved. One reason the classes exist is to aid mortals getting killed off in the games of gods. In some realms, mortals stand no chance against evil gods or those that have outlived their time. Here, mortals can grow strong enough to overthrow their gods.”
Dav’rik’s brows furrowed. “They tried to take us with them.”
“Your people used the mechanism of their revenge as a whetstone to grow stronger; very admirable,” responded Amdirlain. “The same entity that provides classes added acknowledgement of people’s efforts in the gods’ graves. To my knowledge, the Grave Delver Class only exists upon this world.”
“Would you expand on that?” enquired Dav’rik, his curiosity winning over the shock of her revelations.
“Grave Delver? Its variations are granted to those that contribute directly to destroying one of those abominations. It’s a pretty specific situation that the Gods’ Grave curse created, so I doubt it shows up anywhere else,” clarified Amdirlain.
“For the sake of the exercise. How do you know all this?” asked Dav’rik.
“The entity that controls the classes gives me work lists of problems to look into, including the Eldritch,” replied Amdirlain. “They also provide me limited insight into other matters.”
“An interesting claim. If all this is true, you’re being very informative,” Dav’rik remarked dryly.
“You either asked the right questions or caught me when I felt chatty,” replied Amdirlain. “Though maybe I’ve already given you too much to think about for now, even if it's only an intellectual exercise.”
Pallas snorted. “You don’t normally stick around for anyone to ask questions.”
“Well, maybe today isn’t your lucky day,” quipped Amdirlain, and she took in Pallas’s unsettled state. “I’m sure it won’t help you sleep any better. Can I ask a personal question, Mar’gold?”
Mar’gold grinned, and her tail swished in amusement. “I’ve heard about some of your personal questions.”
“I hope this one isn’t too invasive, but would you explain how your Alchemist Class is so much stronger than your others and what you use your Synergist Class for? If it’s a subject you don’t feel like discussing, it’s not an issue,” explained Amdirlain.
“So you don’t know everything?” Mar’gold asked lightly.
Amdirlain smiled. “I never claimed to, but I know different things. As far as I know, only one being knows everything about the realm, but they also can’t do anything directly.”
“Another tidbit to make us feel uncomfortable?” rumbled Pallas.
“If you want to take it that way, I find it reassuring that even powerful beings have limits,” replied Amdirlain, and she playfully clasped her hands together. “Please, Mar’gold, would you tell me about your classes? I’m being polite and asking nicely.”
Mar’gold frowned slightly. “Will you dig it up, anyway?”
“No, I’m curious, but it’s not essential,” replied Amdirlain. “If you don’t want me prying, I won’t.”
Ears twitching, Mar’gold nodded. “The Whiteshield pride invented the process for making the blocks we use in all our construction. Completing the material is a family secret; anyone with a talent for it works in the alchemical plants for part of their careers, hence my Alchemist levels. After commencing that work, we gain the Synergist Class; I’ve not heard of members from any other pride having it.”
“I assume something in the material’s completion involves alchemy and spells,” clarified Amdirlain.
“That part is the secret,” admitted Mar’gold reluctantly.
Amdirlain resisted the temptation to peek and instead shared what she knew. “Did you know it also has combat applications?”
Mar’gold’s ears perked straight up as she jerked upright in her chair. “What?!”
“You didn’t know?” asked Amdirlain, and she smiled when Mar’gold rapidly shook her head. “Now that’s interesting. Something to ask senior members of your pride. If they aren’t aware, it might be a field to investigate. Maybe combining spells with alchemical potions or elixirs on the fly.”
“How did you know?” responded Mar’gold.
“As I've said, I can learn tidbits about classes, but I don’t get told everything about them unless I dig,” clarified Amdirlain.
“Does this entity you claim to work for have a name?” asked Pallas.
His wording brought forth Amdirlain’s smile. “'Work for' isn’t quite the situation. As for a name, they have one, but that’s one thing I’m not sharing.”
Pallas licked his lips nervously. “Why?”
“Out of respect for your ancestors casting off their gods. Why would I tell you the name of an entity you can pray to for blessings?” asked Amdirlain.
Dav’rik frowned. “I thought you said they were above such things?”
“They are, but a Mortal’s belief would still allow drawing energy from them. To that entity, it wouldn’t even be a drop in an ocean,” explained Amdirlain. “Now, who wants to update maps? I can present mine in greater detail.”
Dav’rik motioned to his display. “I’ll handle it.”
They hadn’t finished going through each location when Mor’lmes arrived, and Amdirlain established a mental link with Sarah so she could listen to the briefing. He’d changed over the years, with Life Mana spells having cleared his scars and restored the severed ear.
Mor'lmes pointed to a picture of the Spellclash manor surrounded by hazard signs going over the cleared areas. “We think at least four are in the ruin’s lower basement. Someone breached the law keepers’ barriers without setting off an alarm. Plus, there are vehicles owned by our targets' relatives abandoned within trekking distance. What information do you have about the basement? Besides what you shared after you fought the Spellclash couple?”
“There is at least an effigy down there, but it could be something that would wake up if I’d attempted to destroy the place. I’ll try to investigate it again, but I left it alone since the ones we were monitoring haven’t gone near it,” admitted Amdirlain, and her whiskers twitched in frustration. “I shouldn’t have left that until last, but this Eldritch had some nasty wards.”
Mor’lmes’ whiskers twitched. “There have been many attempts by the Triumvirate Campus’ staff to crack the wards; the law keepers sealed the entrances into the basements.”
“Didn’t you say you found powerful beings having limits reassuring?” asked Pallas.
“Oh, burn,” grumbled Amdirlain, and she clutched a hand to her chest. “It could be worse. At least they didn’t go to the tunnels under your campus. Those are still sealed, aren’t they?”
“It’s not my campus,” protested Mor’lmes.
“More yours than mine,” countered Amdirlain.
Mor’lmes paused, and his ears twitched erratically. “After you resolved my mentors’ memories and those of the other professors, we set extra wards around the entry points we’d found. We have given no keys out to the wards.”
‘You’re such a credit thief, I dealt with the other professors,’ projected Sarah.
“Do you have suggestions for the basement?” asked Amdirlain, and she looked between the four of them.
Mor’lmes huffed. “We’ve tried to crack it with ritual magic a few times.”
‘I could just kick in the front door,’ offered Sarah, and she sent Amdirlain an image of an arcane mech churning the ground open with salvos of missiles.
‘You built a mech?’ Amdirlain mentally squealed.
A picture of a child-like Amdirlain restrained by Sarah’s palm to the top of her head came back through the mental link. ‘Maybe.’
‘Come on, tell me. It would be cool to be a mech pilot,’ protested Amdirlain sulkily.
Sarah grumbled and presented the image of a closed mech bay. ‘You’ve got enough toys of your own. There are options you’re avoiding.’
‘I’m not approaching the Lómë, and any Dragon would feel helping gave them the right to create a lair.’
An image of Sarah crying and packing up a cave appeared through their connection. ‘What about Mechanus? And by the way, a recently absent individual arrived at the apartment. Should we pluck him to cover the back rent?’
‘Avoid anything related to the outer planes. How’s Kadaklan look?’
'Besides being slightly embarrassed when he came in the door, he looks fine.’
The exchange with Sarah ended in a second, and Amdirlain returned her focus to the surrounding group.
“I’ll check out the basement’s remains and let you know what I can make out,” advised Amdirlain. “What’s your closest location to set up a ritual circle?”
Mor’lmes frowned. “Since we don’t know how long they’ll stay there, we might as well use one of the already prepared locations in the city’s south.”
“I’ll let you know,” replied Amdirlain, and she vanished.
Her destination was a kilometre from the ruin, tucked away among trees on another manor’s property. Amdirlain’s improved Resonance cut through the distortion and showed her the interior of the chamber. Off centre in the chamber was an irregular plinth set upon a dais, with four figures erratically spaced around it, while a fifth stood near the jagged plinth. The plinth’s hiss reminded her of the effigy from the outreach centre. She discovered anchors in the black stone linked to the basement's lethal wards.
Amdirlain inspected the damaged property and observed how the law keepers had fused the debris into one solid mass. The basement occupants hadn’t been subtle or haphazard in accessing their bolt hole—they’d sliced through the monitoring wards and disintegrated the sealed rubble that had blocked the stairs. While she waited, Amdirlain used Analysis on each Skinwalker and found only one with a magic rating above four thousand. The others ranged from mid-three thousand upwards, but that wasn’t a guarantee of being able to resist their spells. As she surveyed them, the plinth, dais, and the strongest skinwalker vanished in a surge of Eldritch distortion.
‘One just disappeared, still four present.’
Amdirlain formed a connection to Mor’lmes’ personal link unit. “Mor’lmes, five targets were in the basement, but one just disappeared; no idea where it went.”
“I’ll let the teams know the hunt continues,” replied Mor’lmes.
Disconnecting, Amdirlain’s concentration stayed fixed on the distortion in the basement. Frustrated by the wards’ magical strength, Amdirlain grimaced. “If I can’t get in, can I get them to come out?”
‘Not all of them have shown capacity to Teleport, and if they could, why use vehicles to come to this ruin of all places?’ asked Sarah.
Amdirlain broadcast a translation of the event. ‘I think one disappeared with the effigy in the chamber.’
‘You can’t crack the ward with magic, but what about cracking the stone with natural forces?’ asked Sarah. ‘Ideally, before more of them get away. Send me an image of where you’re hiding out.’
After Amdirlain dispatched an image across their link, Sarah appeared beside her.
“You want to sing something up, or do I get to play?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“How deeply buried is this chamber?” asked Sarah
Amdirlain gave her the dimensions, and Sarah grinned gleefully.
“Why do I feel sorry for them?”
Sarah pulled out an enchanted plate and waved towards the ruin. “Only the skinwalkers left, no sleeping entity or creepy effigy?”
“Just the four of them now,” sighed Amdirlain.
“Do me a favour and get rid of the stuff on top. I’ll also need a force screen or dimensional barrier for the neighbours,” instructed Sarah.
“Why?” asked Amdirlain. “You used your toy to eliminate the ones in their vehicles surgically.”
“Different toy. On this occasion, we need a bit more oomph,” countered Sarah.
Amdirlain brought up a scrying window, and it appeared like a giant hand scraped the sealed debris away before scooping out the soil above the black stone. When Amdirlain signalled all was ready, she felt Sarah’s mind reach above them.
“You didn’t,” whispered Amdirlain.
She strengthened the barrier, added a one-way top, and stabilised the ground for Sarah's attack. The pointed metallic drum blazed downward, breaking the sound barrier. The release of kinetic energy produced a burst of light and made the ground buck inside the barrier. A cloud of dust billowed up, but nothing escaped.
“You threw all that rock up; are you going to begrudge me a few things coming back down?” quipped Sarah, as the barrier kept the sound and the explosion’s mushroom cloud contained. “Kinetic energy is a bitch. Their resistance to mundane materials means needing a bigger hammer to hurt them. Your barrier just looks like a block of dust now. Better keep the barrier up.”
Amdirlain looked at her aghast. “How many of those do you have incoming?”
“Five, I’m not looking to crack this egg; I want to obliterate it,” laughed Sarah. After the second drove deeper into the bedrock, the combat notification appeared, and Sarah pouted. “What a waste. I guess I’ll see if I can reload those LO units as planned. I take it you also set the barrier to absorb the ground shock?”
[Combat Summary:
Eldritch Skinwalker x4 (50%)
Total Experience gained: 1,920,727
Ostimë: +960,363
Ontãlin: +960,363]
Amdirlain teleported the remaining projectiles out into space. “I’m sure the shock waves from them breaking the sound barrier on approach were bad enough. You put up low-orbit weapon platforms?”
Sarah grinned slyly. “You mean I forgot to tell you something? Oh, gosh! This girl had to have some fun while you swept fans off their feet.”
Her attack had lessened the distortion’s strength but didn't remove it. With the stone’s dust particles floating within the cloud that still billowed about, Amdirlain closed the barrier’s top completely. Once she confirmed the barrier's seal, Amdirlain opened a Gate towards the sun beneath the most prominent pieces; only once the traces were vented into space did she end the Spell.
“My goodness, you used a normal Spell for once,” quipped Sarah. “What will the natives think?”
Rolling her eyes, Amdirlain recreated the atmosphere inside the barrier and evened out the ground.
“I hope they enjoy the idea. Without knowing the effigy’s nature, I wouldn’t have risked putting it into space. The other Skinwalker taking it away, and you splattering the rest, simplified the clean up; putting a living Eldritch into space seems like bad news.”
“For some, it would be like going home, but there are times it’s a risk you must take,” replied Sarah.
“I’d like to know where it took the effigy,” replied Amdirlain. “I’m running out of hidey-holes visible to the surveyors outside the large chamber and tunnels beneath the campus.”
“You just red-flagged yourself,” noted Sarah dryly. “But always expect the worst, especially with the Eldritch.”
Amdirlain grimaced. “Let’s get back to the apartment. I wanted to talk with Kadaklan, and I can check the tunnels from there.”