Amdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Qil Tris - Year 4370 (Local calendar)

"How long does it take to get to the inner city?" asked Amdirlain after an hour of walking through deserted halls without a break in the silence. The route they'd chosen crossed by many shafts, but none were operational lifts. The walls were heavily eroded, and the passages they passed through were heavy with dust swirling in icy winds.

"If we keep a steady pace, a week," replied the elder. “We’ve rations enough for us all.”

"None of the shafts are elevators?" asked Sarah.

The same guard coughed. "Not anymore. The last stopped working centuries ago. The city sealed the shafts because we couldn't keep them clear of things without the lifts working."

Sarah clicked her tongue. "Could I get your names if we're going to travel that long?"

"I'm Darrag, and my brother's name is Govruth," replied the younger of the two, without slowing from their march's steady, ambling rhythm.

"Why don't I fix one lift at least?" proposed Sarah. "Clearing it out won't be hard."

Stopping, the pair looked at each other, and Govruth's beard crinkled as he gnawed at his bottom lip. "The city elders haven't allowed the work."

"It's disorderly to leave monsters lurking between your outpost and the inner city," countered Sarah, and she winked at Amdirlain. "What're your Miner's senses telling you?"

"Lots of spiders and other pests. Some of the tougher ones sound like phase spiders," replied Amdirlain, playing along. "The sealed shaft three hundred metres ahead goes close to the mountain's peak and down half a kilometre. It doesn't sound like it reaches the inner city; not enough echoes from the base. Wide enough for five to stand abreast, or a small wagon."

"We can reseal it after we descend and clear out the vermin," proposed Sarah.

Govruth huffed. "As long as we can clear the shaft completely and reseal it."

Walking faster, Sarah opened a wall section before the other three caught up. Dropping a series of glowing orbs into the lift shaft, she listened to the hissing clicks that arose. "Phase spiders."

"Above and below," agreed Amdirlain.

Sarah nodded and stepped back, motioning for the others to follow her example. Far below, thumps and flames rose repeatedly until the chittering stopped. Even as they faded, Sarah released a swarm of fist-sized orbs and started measuring the shaft's entrance as the spheres raced inside. The hissing sound of plasma lasers burning through flesh and webs descended from above.

"It won't be long," said Sarah to the brothers. "I'll get a temporary platform ready for descending."

Without waiting, she started drawing steel strips and, lying them on the floor away from the shaft, working them into a latticework.

'You could have done that without measuring,' projected Amdirlain.

Sarah huffed in amusement. 'People find little gestures they can understand reassuring. The towns I visited were rustic, but they weren't this old. I thought they might still be developing.'

"Let's get the entrance fully open," proposed Amdirlain. "That way, we're ready to go."

Once it was ready, they stood on the levitating platform and sealed the opening behind them before they descended to the ashes at the bottom of the shaft. With still a distance to travel through the deserted outer city, they used other shafts to avoid a winding path and descended almost two kilometres in an hour. Sarah had left a constructed platform in each new shaft and ensured the brothers knew how to operate them.

When they finally reached the inner city, they found a solid metal wall formed the gate, and the ward's keystone had long since failed. Beyond the gate were tunnels and chambers that rang with a worn lethargic theme. The wall was the inner section of a massive cog that rolled sideways, the teeth along its edges turning in the geared tracks along the floor. Teams of dire boars instead of a drive shaft powered its mechanism. Amdirlain could see Sarah's shoulders tense as they each took in the off-balance pressure the makeshift harness put on the door.

Sarah muttered when the door's trailing edge became visible after long minutes. "How long has the drive shaft been in for repair?"

"How do you know about that?" asked Darrag.

Sarah snorted. "I can hear the strain on the door. It's not meant to be opened by whatever is giving it a good tug."

"Two years; they're having issues getting it back into place," replied Govruth.

Amdirlain smiled at Sarah. “You can put everything back in order.”

The dose of stink-eye Sarah threw her way had Amdirlain smiling and stroking her braided beard.

The guards presented letters of introduction from Captain Dalphan to the officer beyond the gate. Amdirlain listened to their hushed conversation within the officer's chamber. As the pair shared their arrival and journey, the Captain tried to restrain his excitement. This Captain didn't bother to consult with anyone and soon had the brothers guide them to the Artificer's guildhall.

The city's passages were clean, but the carvings on the walls were old and blurry, to where their meaning took time to determine. What scaffolding was in place around stonework seemed intended to support what was in place rather than for planned repairs. The booted footsteps they heard in side passages echoed through empty chambers and sparsely furnished homes. The city had sealed up one storefront in four along the principal thoroughfare their escorts led them down.

The Artificer's Guild was covered in a cog motif, and its old wards were fading and damaged. Sarah glanced at Amdirlain as she pushed the door open. Within the lobby was a pristine, well-cared for space, with carved stone chairs lining the wall and a counter tended by a white-bearded dwarf. Though it had a wide staircase leading up to the second floor, its low-hung ceiling and cleanliness gave it a snug feel. As the door bumped against its back plate, he looked up and straightened from his stooped position.

"Who've you brought with you, Darrag?"

"These are Salarn and Amdain, of Clan Mithrilblood," replied Darrag, raising his voice slightly. "Distant travellers from beyond a rift, Master Darlin."

"Rift? I've not heard tale of a rift in years. Come in and put your feet up. When my clerk returns, I'll have him fetch us something to drink so we can talk."

“But you no longer-" Darrag stated only for Govruth to step on his foot.

Govruth coughed. "I'll pop down the pub and grab a few mugs, shall I?"

Without waiting, Govruth was back out the door and, after a moment, Darlin chuckled and began to limp around the end of the counter. "He must think I'm going senile. I hired a new clerk last week, doofus. Still, he volunteered to fetch the booze, so he'll need to cover the first round. Sit, relax, tell me more about this rift of yours."

Darrag muttered under his breath and waited until the three of them were seated before he took up a spot a polite distance away.

"To be blunt, why is the city so run down, Master Darlin?" asked Sarah.

Darlin snorted. "It's an old tale of woe, greed, and perhaps not an uncommon amount of stupidity. Though that could be the way the tales got passed down. Isn't your home suffering the effects of the calamity?"

"What calamity?"

"The Gods’ War? The Gods’ death? Whatever you want to call it?"

Sarah shook her head. "When did this happen?"

"Not long and an eternity ago. It's been a hundred-odd generations since the Catfolk’s gods killed ours," explained Darlin.

"We’re further afield from home than distant lands," replied Sarah. "In the lands I call home, the dwarven gods are still alive."

"Oh, you're like a child out of legend, perhaps from a distant world. If I were you, I'd look to find a way home, perhaps drag a few of my kinfolk with you so they stop littering up this place."

"What happened?” asked Sarah.

"Well, I'm not a Chanter, but I've been around long enough to hear the tale a few hundred times. As the tales say, one of our cities to the south used to trade with the Catfolk, a race of felines that walked on their hind legs. Which, to my mind, is a curious thing indeed, like asking a spider to make your clothes for you. Who'd believe a cat could walk upright? What would they need us for then? Certainly not to open the door or give them food. Then again, my cat would likely still expect me to hop up and feed her. Word of advice: if any kin-folk want to give you a pet to keep you company, make sure it's not a cat unless you seek to be a servant," warned Darlin.

Sarah snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Disregard that advice at your peril. I almost fell in the privy the other night. I was half asleep when the beast meowed in my ear from atop the washbasin. The smug wretch wanted food, so she urgently needed my attention. Yet before I was done with my business, she plopped down atop my britches. Then the wretch wouldn't shift to let me up, no matter what I said," grumbled Darlin, his hand absently rubbing against the chair as if to pet it.

When Darlin stayed quiet, Amdirlain prompted him. "So what happened with the trade with the cat city?"

"Oh yeah. There was trade between us and a group of their cities. Then, a mess of a religious war had gods appearing in the flesh. When the dust settled, the cities we'd traded with had been shattered into rubble, and our gods and those the city's cats worshipped had perished. Explorers bring back wild tales that the other cities that attacked died since only rubble hidden beneath the snow was ever found, along with spectres and other undead stalking the ruins. Fortunately, only one dwarven city has fallen to the foul things; to my knowledge at least," muttered Darlin, and he thumped a fist against the chair. "Yeah, if you ain't from here, get ye home. That's the best advice this white beard can give you."

'Dwarven generations are around forty years, so that puts it around five thousand years ago if the count is close to right,' noted Amdirlain.

Sarah huffed. 'Just before the wizards killed the followers, or did they also kill the de-powered dwarven gods during a Gods' War?'

'Then they'd have been able to claim mantles; so, were the mantles left unclaimed by the winners, or did the dwarves just refuse to worship them? It could be the Catfolk gods got territorial, as a pantheon once did among the elven gods. Post that is when the wizards hit, maybe?'

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"If you think your people's decline is linked to missing your gods, I can tell you about Moradin," said Sarah, and Amdirlain felt his awareness settle on the room.

'Really?'

'Their dwarven fertility could use a boost from a deity, this place is emptying, and Eileen didn't know about dragons. This means their gods somehow gained the draconic runes to teach them artifice, but they couldn't have regained them from local dragons if things went missing. Lost knowledge plus declining numbers means civilisations come apart,' replied Sarah.

"Who is this Moradin?" asked Darlin, and he leant forward on his seat.

'Yeah, and I'm not subtle,' snorted Amdirlain.

'The dwarven pantheon can have full credit,' rebuffed Sarah.

"The patriarch is a dwarven deity known, I'm told, on a few worlds and planes. I'm not the most religious type, however, I’m strong enough magically to call one of his angels from the heavens. They can answer your questions," replied Sarah, her presence leaking certainty and conviction into her words. "If I need information to head home, talking to an Angel wouldn't hurt."

'Again, I ask: subtle? How?' Amdirlain projected along with the sound of fireworks through the link.

'This way, we don't have to stick around to do the work,' retorted Sarah. 'They'll handle the rehab and come to arrangements with the locals. You could offer Moradin a deal on some demi-plane challenges to stir them along, pick up some future favours.'

Darrag cleared his throat. "Don't you think we should ask the Elders?"

Blowing a raspberry, Darlin got to his feet. "I'll be dead in a few years, Darrag, and I've nowhere for my Soul to go. The elders will still be arguing when I'm in the grave. I want to hear what this Angel has to say. Come through; I assume you’ll need space for a circle like an elemental?"

"That would be good," replied Sarah. “Though it requires some adjustments to reach the higher planes.”

Amdirlain waved. "Have fun. I'm going to wait here for the booze."

Darrag stalked after them, trying to talk Darlin down.

Amdirlain murmured under her breath as the trio headed upstairs. "Morradin, chat with Ebusuku and let her know if you'd like any demi-plane challenges set up for them. For some favours, of course—they're far behind the local Catfolk."

"Ebusuku wins the bet and gets a favour, yet we get a bunch of new-old dwarves on a new world. That's a fair balance," Moradin whispered in her ear from an orb of Mana. “I’ll talk to her about these ‘challenge’ things you mentioned.”

Sarah snorted and glanced back at Amdirlain. A ruffle of amusement from Moradin stirred across her awareness before his presence faded out.

Govruth returned with a stone box repurposed into a tray ladened with five lid-capped beer mugs, a pot of stew and some bowls. "Where are the others?"

"Gone upstairs for Darlin to show Sarlan a room they use for elementals," replied Amdirlain, absently following Sarah's tweaks to the summoning circle.

"Already getting into the work, I thought he'd be twisting your ear for longer," replied Govruth, setting the box on top of a low table in the foyer. "Thought he’d hang on and not go senile, like some others."

"He hired a new clerk. Darlin didn't interrupt your retreat, so you'd buy the first round," advised Amdirlain after taking a mug from Gorvruth.

Govruth snorted. "That right bugger!"

"Old folks, they can be sneaky," noted Amdirlain.

Dishing out some stew, Govruth sat down across from Amdirlain. "Is your sister married?"

"I think you'd be better looking for someone else," replied Amdirlain. "She has a bit of a bite when she gets annoyed, though I'm not sure how long we're staying."

Sighing, Govruth slurped at the steaming stew and shook his head. "No one stays. They move from place to place, trying to find somewhere that feels hopeful. We've seen so many come and go. My brother had his heart set on a lass, and she seemed to feel the same, but the moment she was an adult..."

He flicked his hand southwards. "Went searching for somewhere better."

"Do any of them come back?"

"Sometimes, and then tell tales about places they've seen worse than here," replied Govruth. "Some believe them, and others think they've looked in the wrong places. The clan is bleeding out, thousands of cuts from departed souls given up."

"What do you want to do?" asked Amdirlain, and she felt her Charisma gently boost his confidence to speak.

Govruth stabbed the spoon back into the stew. "I want the clan and our home to be a place that makes everyone proud to be a part of it."

"How do you see that working?" asked Amdirlain.

"What do you mean?"

Amdirlain motioned out to the quiet streets with their battered carvings. "What would you improve? Is being a guard what you want to do? Keeping people safe is important, but is that what you're doing? None of you were even training—there wasn't space to train. There was your barracks, the watch room, sealed shafts and chambers? You're ready to protect or go out on patrol, but where do you train?"

"Training is something you do before you become a guard," huffed Govruth.

"No, the best soldiers frequently train, looking to learn more that could be the difference in saving someone's life or their own. Constant small improvements over years can add up," corrected Amdirlain. "It's better than learning when your life is flashing before your eyes that others will die because you're not good enough. That still might happen, but at least you know you did your best."

"On the way down, you asked about devices to learn one's levels. It took me a while to work out what you meant. Those are just legends for us, praying in the temples to learn how you've progressed," stated Govruth.

Amdirlain hummed thoughtfully. "You just have Class visions?"

Govruth blew on his stew and pushed the contents of his bowl around some more. "Those the dreams when you think you're awake but see a place with statues of yourself?"

"Yep," replied Amdirlain, remembering Gail’s talk about her own.

"That's what we have," replied Govruth. "Then, ‌you feel surges of strength, especially after battles. Crafters don't seem to have that happen, just little surges from making things. Nothing to tell how far we've gone, just silence for years or more. Then you’re supposed to get some more of them."

"Depending on the Class, we refine life energy or experience in different ways that translate into levels, enough levels in different classes earn prestige classes," offered Amdirlain. "That's a different Class vision. The strength in the statues you see will tell you're being offered a Prestige Class or gaining access to a new or stronger base Class."

"Really?" asked Govruth. "What else does your clan know about them? It's not a guild secret, is it?"

Amdirlain smiled. "No, it's not a guild secret. I'll tell you what I remember while we wait for the others."

"You should eat first and talk after," advised Govruth.

"It's okay, I'll wait for the others to return. You eat, I'll run my mouth," encouraged Amdirlain.

She answered many very familiar questions while Govruth ate his meal until the summoning circle being breached on the floor above them almost had him spilling his drink. "What was that?"

The Solar’s melody carried a solid, dependable tone and rang out, carrying the pulse of a smith’s hammer working steel.

"An Angel's aura and help arriving to improve things," replied Amdirlain, taking in the Solar and the local introduction upstairs.

"What's an Angel?"

"A servant of a good deity. I don't always agree with their perspective, but they do try to help. It seemed like your clan could do with some help," replied Amdirlain.

"A God's servant? Our gods are dead," protested Govruth.

Amdirlain nodded. "Salarn was seeing if we could intercede on behalf of your people with other dwarven deities."

A voice called from upstairs as the groups came down. "Am, I've heard good things about you. I hope it's alright, me sticking around to help them out?"

"It seems they need it," replied Amdirlain.

A Dwarf with a braided reddish beard and dark gaze that carried the warm glow of a forge started down the stairs. She was wearing the heavy-duty clothing of a smith, with Moradin's symbol on her apron. As the Solar approached, she drew in her aura to avoid touching it against Amdirlain's skin, but when it brushed Govruth, he inhaled in surprise.

"Call me Eazmor; you're Govruth, correct?" asked Eazmor, and her attention fixing on Govruth made the young Dwarf's gaze widen.

"Govruth was telling me he wanted to make his clan and home a place to be proud of," advised Amdirlain.

Eazmor nodded. "A worthy ambition, one we can work to accomplish together. Darlin said there is a Council of Elders to talk with before work can commence. Will you accompany us there, Govruth?"

"I will," breathed Govruth. Licking his lips, he turned to Amdirlain. "Did you come here by accident?"

"We've travelled through a rift before. We came to see if there were people worth helping and if there was a need to assist. Some people need more help than others, but the dwarven people here seem to need a lot," replied Amdirlain before she and Sarah vanished.

The pair eventually arrived back in the apartment after a series of hops to obscure their route.

Kadaklan frowned in confusion when they appeared in the living room. "I expected you to be gone for a week or more."

Amdirlain waved at Sarah. "She decided to play the deity card. So not subtle."

"They needed lots of rehab. It was the pragmatic approach to put them in the care of Moradin and his family. Will you worry about them?" asked Sarah.

"No," admitted Amdirlain.

Sarah nodded in satisfaction. "And it'll be far more orderly since they were a failing society that needed more TLC than we could provide without taking time away from other projects. I should have done more digging in the smaller communities. Lesson learnt. This way also gets the Catfolk backup in case of an Eldritch re-occurrence."

"Alright, I'll leave it in the pantheon's hands," agreed Amdiralin. “Though I can see things getting tense if the Catfolk learn there are other gods about.”

"They just need to learn that not all gods are cut from the same cloth. Let’s get back to focusing on the Matriarch," declared Sarah.

Giving a nod, Amdirlain relaxed on her couch. "First stage: information gathering. I'd also like to sort out a way to break through the cultist indoctrination that the wizards go through."

"That's going to be tough. Most cult breakers kidnap victims to isolate them and reverse the process. Bombard them with truths to counter the brainwashing," replied Sarah. "You'll get better returns for time in simply breaking their propaganda machine. Getting the non-indoctrinated civilians into a state where they'll act when offered a way out will likely take a lot of work. A big regime can’t operate if the peons are all gone, and they only have officials left."

"Most cult breakers don't have access to psionic techniques or isolation dreamscapes," proposed Amdirlain.

"Which needs to be monitored," rebutted Sarah. "It can also be done after we rescue their pipeline of recruits and have the current authorities isolated."

Looking between them, Kadaklan smiled. "Most people don't try to stop regimes from interfering with others' daos."

"This is a small battlefield for souls," replied Amdirlain. "I'll have to sort out the countless hordes of souls bound in undead on Orcus' Plane eventually."

"The Demon Lord you've spoken of?" asked Kadaklan.

"That's the one. But let's not get into that discussion yet; I've got a splash planned," quipped Amdirlain.

Her joke earned a groan from Sarah. "Do you need me to speak to any of those professors?"

"Do you want to discuss the power grid with the engineering professors?" replied Amdirlain. "If you do, I’ll also need to figure out if the power generators they use on the Material Plane will work in the mana flows of a demi-plane. I'll do some construction work and think about how I'd like to start making waves."

"Before you go," interjected Kadaklan. "What Sarah said before you left, are you still using that poison?"

Amdirlain clicked her tongue and nodded. "I've been taking it to increase my Mental Hardening, and it causes the singing to be more challenging."

Kadaklan winced. "Would you please consider stopping? I provided that to you for growing your mental protection against the Eldritch, not for continual use."

"I'm likely to run into more in the future," argued Amdirlain.

"But that is not the sole reason you are using it; you are using it as a crutch to develop your power faster," noted Kadaklan. "Some people use poisons to temper their bodies in the short term, yet they don't use it for the hours you sing. There are also others whose way features poisons, but they can grow to contaminate the surrounding environment. Before they reach that stage, their Ki loses the ability to heal; it can only harm."

[Knowledge: Eastern Paths unlocked

Eastern Paths (1)]

"I'll look for a different way," sighed Amdirlain. “It was working so well.”

“A cliff is a fast way down, even for those that can’t fly,” noted Kadaklan.

Sarah huffed. "Thanks. So the roads to enlightenment don't always produce pleasant folks."

"Those following a poison Dao are unpleasant individuals," explained Kadaklan. "Generally, they are followed by those seeking power in the fall, not something followed by those seeking higher paths."

"Seeking to become eastern demons?"

"Some do seek power in Hell as their road to Immortality. For others, the path of poison is chosen from seeing it as an aspect of nature," advised Kadaklan.

"How many paths are there?" asked Amdirlain.

Kadaklan smiled. "As many as there are people, only the heavens truly know the limits. Many of the paths have main themes that could be seen to mirror the affinities you are familiar with, yet even those variations are caused by an individual's nature."

"Many but not all?" asked Amdirlain as she leaned forward.

"There are paths around blood, pleasure, pain, justice, public service, hospitality, every weapon known, and many other things," replied Kadaklan. "Those are simply a few of those I know of, and I'm not a scholar."

[Eastern Paths (1->2)]