Amdirlain’s PoV - Vehtë - Mediterranean Sea
The sea breeze from the Mediterranean brought with it the odour of dung fires from the Lizardfolk town. Its haze wafted across the ruin and mingled with the images her techniques showed her. Clairsentience strained to show the building that had once stood there, so Amdirlain instead scanned through the debris, looking for any sign of a route into the hill or recent visitors.
That is assuming what I want is inside. Or is it simply part of my Soul wants to tread on their once-holy ground now they’re dead? Did the Greek gods have them recreate the same buildings from Earth or was it only the location that was common?
A muffled musical chirp from among the rubble caught Amdirlain's attention, and she hurried forward at the sound of a cracking shell. As she turned the corner, a pillar of flame fifteen metres high blazed against the starry backdrop of the night sky. The wind that raced across the hilltop couldn’t sway the torrent of energy. A growing Phoenix spread his wings in the middle of the pyre, flapping them gently to shed the bits of broken shells that still clung to his features.
I just missed your hatching.
He tilted his head curiously at Amdirlain and looked her over with a silvery gaze before he crouched and leapt skywards. The flames created thermal currents as he circled upwards, leaving a glowing trail that followed him as he circled the ruin. The flames glinted off a golden shell in the fading embers of the pyre. Though he seemed intent on stretching his wings, his attention didn’t stray far from Amdirlain.
I always thought they hatched with the dawn. It seems when you’re ready to get out, you’re ready. Between you and me, little birdie, I’m ready to get out of this shell holding me.
As the heat faded, the shell’s metallic sheen disappeared, becoming plain-looking fragments about the size of an ostrich egg. Amdirlain waited until the pieces had thoroughly cooled before she gathered them up to pass along to Kadaklan. As she stored the last piece, the Phoenix rushed past her, its wings wafting flames fruitlessly across her.
Amdirlain teleported back to the others and found them watching the fiery display.
“Was he unhappy about your intrusion?” questioned Kadaklan.
“I don’t know why, but that’s what I needed from here,” said Amdirlain, and she handed the shell pieces to Kadaklan. “As soon as I picked up the pieces, the curiosity about the place from Precognition faded. Do you think they’ll be useful in a potion?”
“He’s not the same type of Phoenix as my kin, but it’s likely that the egg is useful,” confirmed Kadaklan, carefully securing the pieces. The Phoenix swooped across the hilltop again, leaving a blazing swath of flames clinging to the rubble.
The continued fiery display drew a frown from Amdirlain. “The Greek or Persian gods probably brought him with them. I’m wondering if he is better off somewhere else, but I’ll come back and check on him later. I’ll take us back to the east end of the isthmus.”
“A slow trip to pick up shards?” asked Klipyl. “Can you tell me what was so important about eggshells?”
“They’re from a type of Phoenix,” repeated Kadaklan patiently. “That one appears more like the Persian tales, an eternal symbol of renewal.”
“Remnants of the old living with the new,” offered Amdirlain.
Which summarises my life. I don’t know if I need the eggshells or to see this place.
“So you can use its properties for magical purposes?” asked Klipyl.
Kadaklan nodded. “Potentially.”
“Let’s get away from here before it notices us,” said Amdirlain, and she teleported them away as soon as they’d all acknowledged the suggestion.
They moved along the west coast of mainland Greece. Amdirlain studied more Lizardfolk settlements and noted the slow changes from the southern settlements. Dome houses with proper mortar were typical now, even in villages. In the larger towns, the decorative murals she’d seen in cities covered more locations. Empty common spaces might hold statues or water features instead of simple grassed spaces for animals to graze.
Amdirlain continued her meditations each night, shuttling crystals to Foundry after filling those she’d brought along. The relaxed peace of their travels settled deeper without the millions of distractions that had held her attention for so long. The most hectic part of the day was the sparring bouts with Jinfeng, and the deeper her relaxation grew, the more significant the impact Muse’s Insight had on her beleaguered pupil.
They had nearly reached the summer’s end before arriving at the point where they intended to cross to the Italian peninsula.
Amdirlain felt foul energy seething along her skin as they descended towards a vacant beach.
Currently at the head of the group, Klipyl stopped and glanced back. “Something is wrong ahead of us.”
“I agree, not just wrong but old,” said Kadaklan. “It feels like the den of those who follow a twisted Dao.”
Jinfeng glided forward, her hand resting atop her blade’s hilt. “Might I investigate? Travelling with you has been far too quiet besides our morning sparring.”
“I’ll go with her,” Klipyl quickly offered, bouncing eagerly in place.
“I need some time to work on some changes for the crossing,” shrugged Sarah. “We could set the house up here and wait for them to return.”
Amdirlain eyed the eager pair. “If you find yourself in over your head, hightail it back here.”
“Maybe I should have asked you to be my Móðir instead,” quipped Klipyl, affecting a sweet, innocent look, she tucked her hands behind her back. “May I please go play?”
“Shoo,” huffed Amdirlain, motioning towards the path ahead.
As the pair headed off, Sarah settled the house on the hillside and took out some rune-covered plates. “You can hold things for me.”
“Yes, dear,” said Amdirlain. “Though should I point out you can just as easily float these around?”
“You probably shouldn’t,” remarked Sarah as she floated along the side of the house. “That would weaken the distraction the work represents.”
While they worked, Kadaklan poked among the nearby grasses and shrubs, gathering samples from the plant life and studying them intently with a memory crystal held in one hand.
I should have insisted he use the crystal earlier, with all the fussing with his notepaper, brushes, and ink bowl every stop.
Half an hour later, they heard a fearsome bellow from the beach, and Amdirlain started to hand Sarah the latest set of plates.
“Are you going to trust them to handle it?” asked Sarah.
Amdirlain’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Fine.”
Sarah laughed and set back to work. More screams and cries rolled up from the coast, but eventually, they fell silently with a final gurgling cry and a muffled boom.
Sarah smiled wryly and tilted her head towards the path. “That doesn’t sound like they lost.”
“I can still feel the summoning bond to Klipyl,” offered Kadaklan.
A naked Klipyl appeared at the top of the rise, vigorously running her hands along her curves to shed salt water. Beside her, a wane Jinfeng perched on her floating blade, drenched from head to toe in a clinging yellowish fluid, her mouth twisted sourly.
“Did you have fun?”
As the wind brought a rancid odour to them, Kadaklan wrinkled his nose. “More importantly, did she go wading through a pool of disease?”
“I’m sure it will be an educational tale,” replied Sarah. “Though I don’t know why she didn’t go for a swim as well.”
“Klipyl didn’t get coated with this,” grumbled Jinfeng, gesturing to herself. “It seemed a bad idea to befoul the waters with it. Kadaklan, would you like to examine this? I think it is disease-related.”
No way am I pulling that ooze into Inventory to clean her up.
Kadaklan moved forward to examine the material and brought out a sample tube and a scoop. “Hold still for a moment, and then we’ll get you washed up.”
“You want that gunk?” questioned Klipyl, wrinkling her nose. “I thought Jinfeng had been kidding me.”
“I’ll have to determine its properties, but it might be a suitable test material for some experiments,” said Kadaklan.
Amdirlain grunted. “Coming back here and sharing its unique odour with us was probably the wise choice. You never know how far it will spread through the wildlife or how much it will kill. How did you escape getting drenched, Klipyl?”
“The foul energies come from an old temple, and the rules meant I couldn’t go inside,” explained Klipyl. “I took a swim in a rock pool while I waited for Jinfeng.”
With a twitch of her eyebrow, Am looked back at Jinfeng. “And you went in alone?”
“I’ve faced worse than what I fought in there. It just got messy,” Jinfeng motioned to her clinging top. “I don’t suppose one of you could help clean this up?”
As Kadaklan worked, he interrogated Jinfeng on the source, which turned out to be a Cyclops that had exploded in a gout of foulness when slain.
Klipyl slid further from the pair. “How much of it do you want?”
“That depends on whether it’s useful,” Kadaklan said, offering a casual shrug. “I’ve never met an exploding one-eyed giant before, so this might be a unique material I won’t acquire again.”
“Get it while it’s hot,” drawled Sarah; after eyeing Jinfeng’s state, she stepped back beneath the house.
With a jiggling shudder, Klipyl headed towards the house, offering Sarah and Amdirlain a mischievous wave. “I suppose you heard the racket.”
“Just slightly. How big is the temple?”
“Not sure how deep into the cliff it runs. There were corridors at the back, but I can’t go inside,” clarified Klipyl. “Jinfeng fought the rotting Cyclops in the main temple before their awful altar. The complex could go pretty deep into that hill.”
“The sound of the fighting echoed oddly,” Jinfeng swallowed convulsively, struggling to keep her nausea contained. “Would you work faster, please, Master Kadaklan?”
“I’ve told you not to use titles while travelling,” corrected Kadaklan. “You were the one that didn’t get out of the way in time.”
“I wasn’t expecting it to explode,” Jinfeng protested.
Amdirlain frowned. “What else can you tell me about it?”
“The entry hall had an awning supported by tall pillars and went deep into the cliff. If it was only a single chamber it seems a waste, I’d expect space for whatever priests were stationed here to be past its guardian,” said Jinfeng.
Klipyl sat on the edge of the stairs and drew a diagram in the dirt. “There is a half-destroyed seawall down there and some odd mounds between it and a cliff with a temple frontage carved into it. The preservation runes along the front are fractured, but various defensive runes were still in place. Though Jinfeng fought the guardian, I could see wards that weren’t invoked.”
“I might take a look,” said Amdirlain. “Clear it out and ensure nothing will crawl out to kill the locals.”
“The giant zombie did a good enough job handling that,” offered Jinfeng. “That doesn’t mean it wasn’t trapping other things inside the place though.”
“Be back soon,” Amdirlain said. She teleported down to the beach and hopped to the cliff at the far end. The weathered rock was faded, with most of the carvings that once had decorated them worn away by the sea air, but the carved stone doors displayed an old man in a cave covered in moss. Though a ward lingered over the frontage, cracks showed through some runes where they had failed years ago.
[Depiction of Demogorgon
Details: Demogorgon originated as a grammatical error that gained belief by the inexplicable fears of humanity looking for a place to call home. Its existence was another mechanism that allowed the Greek gods to hold their fading at bay, and they brought him with them when they requested refuge, seeking to tap into the reserve of power he had formed. The deity of corruption that formed grew beyond the Greek gods due to finding a niche in the Abyss. He was never formally part of their Pantheon, so he avoided involvement in the Gods’ War.]
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That’s fine, but I’ve zero interest in taking him on. If it weren’t him attracting the attention of those so inclined, it would be others.
Beyond the doors in the middle of the temple hall was a pool of foul-smelling fluid spreading outwards from a rotting corpse whose flesh had already liquified, leaving the single empty eye socket and black bones exposed. A procession of pillars down the hall showed carvings of sacrifices chained up before a well-endowed bipedal male with multiple tentacles in place of his arms rending apart the offerings. At the far end was a black marble altar with gore-crusted shackles; beneath the dried blood, enchantments gleamed. She didn’t study the more detailed mosaics along the walls and floor that showed how those who appeased him fared. Though the ward on the front door had collapsed with the temple proper, Amdirlain could see an intricate lacework of enchantments ready to lash out at anyone not carrying the deity’s symbol and using magic within the structure.
Amdirlain strode forward, and once across the threshold, she activated her aura; the flames incinerated the filth as the temple’s inner wards reacted. A barrage of curses tinted the air with a repulsive mix of bluish-green from the Decay unleashed by hundreds of spells. As sickly spells continued, bright yellow spores fell from the ceiling into her flames. The power that would have felled a legion didn’t manage to make her aura compress at all. Her own spells flared in return, smashing into key points that supported the protections, bringing a halt to the onslaught. The web of wards collapsed across the temple’s ceiling, and their energy cascaded towards the rear; the flash of light flickered down the corridors in the far corners that led deeper into the cliff.
Oh boy, it’s a classic dungeon delve. It’s an evil temple to purify, but I bet no loot is left. However, what was the deal with the Cyclops being inside the place? Was it stuck here as a guardian when everyone else ditched?
With two obvious options, Amdirlain shrugged and headed for the left corridor; beyond the archway, she found a vestment area with rotted robes puddled on the floor between holes with dried shards of wood poking from them. Exits were positioned on the left and far wall, and from the first, Amdirlain heard a faint metallic chime. She paused to listen, and a regular pattern beat out in an echoing signal. Curious about the source, Amdirlain headed in that direction and passed through a litter-strewn refectory, with rotten furnishing and rat-chewed debris littering the floor. Beyond it, she found a kitchen and a half dozen small sleeping niches.
Her exploration of the passages found some chambers partly collapsed, the various small pests that had snuck past the Cyclops fleeing from Amdirlain’s presence. Eventually, she found a dungeon where lines of rusty cells displayed faded blood stains, and rust from the bars turned the puddles around their bases into red pools. When she ducked through a door at the end, she found the simple rows of cells, expanded into a multi-level area with a large space in the middle containing scores of bodies mounded in a circle. As she watched, the flesh and bones churned and convulsed before running together into a misshapen giant, hunched over with its skin the texture of melted wax.
[Species: Sacrificial Construct
Level: 945
Defence: 972
Health: 28,350
Melee Attack Power: 1,197
Combat Skills: Smash [M] (23), Bite [M] (43), Claw [M] (22)
Details: These undead come into existence through the slaughter of multiple individuals in a single ritual that combines all the participants’ life force; their remains are held in stasis until a trigger event occurs.]
“What a waste of lives,” sighed Amdirlain, and she surged forward, blurring towards the thing’s chest. She ignited just before impact and briefly flared her aura, the foulness dropping into ash. “I find a Genocide Grave more disturbing. What were you folks securing in here?”
[Combat Summary
Sacrificial Construct x 1
Total Experience gained: 47,450
Empress Malfex: +47,450
Empress Malfex Levelled Up! x2]
At the cavern’s end, another archway led into a smaller, heavily reinforced chamber where mildew and mushrooms clung to the wet rock. Beyond multiple rows of silver-coated bars was a heavy metal door where the fading lines of wards showed a broken stasis field. The metal door was the source of the sound she’d been following and, as she broke through the bars, the door pulsed with another set of heavy blows that chimed against the silvery frame that held it in place. A forceful blow caused the door to jump, and the next strike failed to land. Behind the door, Amdirlain heard a low grunt and heavy panting start up.
A hair-raising howl split the air and a frenzy of blows battered against the door. The last of the wards faded out, and the door buckled. Claws dug through the metal and twisted the top of the door downwards. The top of grey furry ears showed first amid the smoke wafting from seared hands. The outline of the top of the figure’s head was enough to let her Analysis provide details.
[Name: Demeter of Macedon
Species: Greater Werewolf
Class: Fighter / Knight / Vanguard / Duelist
Level: 1 / 42 / 42 / 42 / 42
Defence: 295
Health: 10,126
Melee Attack Power: 387
Combat Skills: Daggers [M] (67), Short Blades [S] (155), Javelin [M] (12)
Details: The High Priest of Demogorgon cursed this former king, but the invading dragons interrupted their corruption of him. They sealed him away, expecting their return to be a matter of months; instead, they left him behind when the fleet departed.]
Damm, I am on clean-up duty. He’s got only a level for his monster species.
[Werewolf curse
Details: After the first transformation, it is impossible to remove entirely as it has altered the person biologically and converted their species. The curse carries in the infected individual’s blood and can corrupt others injured by the werewolf.]
The metal tore down the middle with a screech, and Demeter ducked through the doorway. Deep loam fur covered him from ear tips to the elongated feet that required him to pad about on the balls of his feet.
Amdirlain set a barrier across the corridor as Demeter flung the door aside. She tapped her fingers against her leg while Demeter lashed his claws into the transparent barrier. His eyes blazed red as he fixated on her with intent, hostile focus, his lips curled up. When he turned his attention to the wall, tearing up the stonework, she added additional barriers and hemmed him entirely in. Though his Soul showed flaws like most other people she’d seen in Soul Sight, the curse spread black veins across its surface, mindless rage trying to consume mind and Soul alike.
“I’m not your enemy. You’re free because I broke the magic that held you oblivious. They sealed you up and left,” Amdirlain said. “Calm down, change back, and I’ll see if I can help you. If you stay in that form, I will beat you like a rug.”
As he ripped the door away, she casually drove a blazing hand deep into the wall beside her. The smell of incinerated rock and a thunderous boom rolled down the corridor, and Demeter’s ears perked straight up as he flinched back.
Startled upright, the anger receded in his deep-set gaze and muscles contorted, forcing bones to break and reform as the massive werewolf became a well-muscled man. He eyed Amdirlain coldly, not moving to cover himself. His skin glistened from the sweat that had sprung up from the pain of his transformation.
“Who are you?” grunted Demeter, flexing his hands as his distorted knuckles twisted back into place.
She used Fabricate to form a long white cotton tunic; folding it, she offered it to him. “The person who broke the spells holding you. Your curse is impossible to break completely but let’s talk, and I’ll see if I can change the curse and take the homicidal rage out of it.”
Despite the darkness, he had no problem snatching the tunic from her; he bundled it in one hand instead of donning it.
He possesses some kind of dark sight, even in Human form.
Amdirlain kept her eyes on his face. His gaze roamed her before his attention flickered dismissively across the filthy chamber, his nose wrinkling at the dank stench.
“The High Priest of...”
“Stop!” ordered Amdirlain. The sharpness of the command choked the next word off in his throat. “Don’t mention the High Priest’s Deity. While it’s improbable that he might hear his name spoken, it’s still possible. Especially since we’re in the ruin of one of his temples.”
The muscles in Demeter’s jaw bunched. “You have a commanding presence about you, woman. I’m not used to taking orders from a stranger, let alone one with such deformed features. You should know you speak to a king.”
What do I say? I’m sorry, but your relatives and friends are long dead? He doesn’t seem interested in believing me.
“I’m sorry, but your kingdom is long dead, Demeter,” said Amdirlain softly, not wanting to belabour the truth but not relishing the flare of raw pain in his gaze before denial set in.
Her use of his name caused Demeter’s gaze to tighten. “So you claim. How do you know my name if it’s no more?”
“I have certain capabilities that allow me to learn things,” replied Amdirlain.
“What proof do you have?”
I certainly have my Charisma under control since he can argue with me.
“Is the state of this place not enough?”
“This could be a trick.” Demeter’s upper lip twitched sporadically as he fought a snarl.
Amdirlain frowned. “Let me show you the hills outside Athens and those along the isthmus. I’ll scry them out so you can see them. Have you experienced seers showing remote locations?”
“Of course,” snapped Demeter. “I had servants that could do so.”
She displayed images of the hills of Athens and other readily identifiable locations in the air between them, including the details of the Lizardfolk towns that now stood there. The sounds and smells smothered his disbelief.
As the images rushed, Demeter stepped back; anger warred with concern across his face before he spat his response. “As I thought tricks, you simply show illusions and lies. I want no part of your foul magics, woman.”
The ancient Greeks had a dim view of women.
“My foul magic?” Amdirlain laughed, and the sound created weird echoes in the cells. “The High Priest set a curse on you and imprisoned you, yet my sharing images with you is foul magic? Do you remember being brought here and what the temple looked like outside?”
“Yes. My Seer was a trustworthy man, not a deformed freak.”
Really? How does Gail have the patience to deal with sexist morons?
“Those images are from places I’ve passed recently. I sensed you recognised the distinct hill outside Athens,” noted Amdirlain calmly, and she displayed more of them, this time focused on the beach outside. “Do you recognise the destroyed harbour wall?”
Demeter snarled. “No, I don’t.”
His facial and throat muscles contoured inhumanly, and the bulges rippled along his shoulders.
“Calm yourself,” commanded Amdirlain, inspiring a sense of calm and steel will. “You’re just letting the curse set its hooks deeper into you.”
It took him a while, but eventually, his body stopped attempting to herald an impending change. “Athens is not in Macedon.”
Amdirlain raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you’d like to get dressed while you think more about those images.”
With that, Amdirlain held out a pair of leather sandals. “While none of those locations are far enough north for Macedon, I’ve been told those humans who didn’t evacuate didn’t survive the dragons and their forces,” said Amdirlain.
The man swayed from side to side, shaking his head fervently in denial; lashing out, he batted the sandals from her light grip.
“I’ll go nowhere with you,” snapped Demeter. “You be on your way, and I’ll be on mine.”
“Dragons drove humanity from these shores. You won’t find a Human settlement of any size in these lands,” advised Amdirlain. “I’ll help you if we can reach an agreement.”
“I will not submit to you,” grumbled Demeter. “I’m the King Demeter of Macedon; it is only right you aided me. The mere fact you think I owe you something displays your nature as a base scheming woman.”
The hostility in his tone chilled Amdirlain's voice. “That isn’t what I asked, and considering I freed you, it’s rather rude not even to hear me out.”
Demeter slashed his hand through the air. “You get nothing from me.”
“I’m not asking for a submission,” declared Amdirlain, narrowing her gaze. “I’m requesting you to negotiate. Did you never do that as king?”
The last thing I want is for you to conquer part of the kingdoms.
“Do you think I’ll bend my knee because of a mere show of strength?” Demeter stabbed a finger at the wall and the blackened hole she made. “That must have been prepared illusion and trickery. Your features are ugly, and you clearly suffer from birth defects. Your parents should have left you on a hillside to die of exposure.”
Should I take that as how he behaved to those who sought audiences?
Amdirlain smiled coldly. “You don’t get out of here with that curse intact. You’re a danger to others.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Demeter started for the exit. “If the curse is a problem for you, then remove it. If you can, I might not kill you for your insolence by not addressing me with the proper respect.”
I don’t get paid enough to put up with your shit, and I’m not letting you out to prey on and infect Lizardfolk.
Before Demeter could take a second step, Amdirlain uncoiled a light kick. It hurled him back down the corridor and into the cell’s rear wall. A spatial barrier sprang into existence, gleaming as if composed of compressed glass shards; the facets lit up the darkness. Demeter shook off the impact and lashed out with a left jab.
Amdirlain didn’t blink when the spatial energies removed his hand. Demeter flinched back and clutched at his wrist, a low cry of pain escaping clenched teeth.
“I’m not a Witch, and I can easily kill you. At present, your species isn’t even Human. Most would count you as a monster since you’re a Greater Werewolf,” observed Amdirlain. “Because you can inflict your condition on others, I will not permit you to wander from here without changing that situation.”
“No woman tells me what to do,” Demeter snarled in contemptuous rage, his muscularity twisting as his outrage ignited his transformation. He lifted his arm and eyed the bones growing back. “I don’t care what agreement you want, and I will slaughter those monsters that invaded my lands.”
The words rippled with no sign of discordance across the unmarred sections of his Soul, and Amdirlain sighed. “Have it your way.”
Amdirlain dropped the barrier and blurred forward. Demeter’s eyes nearly popped from his skull as the force of the decapitating blow bounced his head off the cell wall. She grabbed his Soul and quickly ensured the curse wouldn’t follow him into the next life.
[Combat Summary
Greater Werewolf x1
Total Experience gained: 13,706
Empress Malfex: +13,706
Soul Sight [M] (10->11)]
Teleport placed her back on the beach, and Amdirlain dispatched a message.
“Athena, I’ve got a question to ask,” Amdirlain said, and she released the Message Spell that contained an image of her surroundings.
The Lantern Archon popped into existence in under a minute, her filigree shell bearing Hestia’s symbol spinning around a glowing core. “I prefer to use Theia now.”
“You haven’t changed your name though.”
“Perhaps I’ve not let go of the past completely,” Theia murmured thoughtfully. “This place is a deserted ruin. I didn’t expect to find you by yourself.”
“The others are at the top of the Hill,” Amdirlain said, motioning in their direction.
“Sarah must have their thoughts under some sort of shielding,” said Theia. “What question did you have for me, Amdirlain?”
“Do you remember a King Demeter of Macedon before the scourge?”
“There were a few kings of Macedon with that name,” replied Theia.
Amdirlain brought the former King's Soul forth and held it out for Theia’s inspection.
“Unpleasant fellow,” Theia said. “How did he survive this long?”
“He was in a stasis chamber,” Amdirlain motioned to the frontage of Demogorgon’s temple.
“We should have never brought that thing with us,” huffed Theia. “I understand he has prospered well here. Yet another crime my family would have needed to make amends for in time. Would you like me to guide Demeter to Judgement?”
“Can you tell who would get his Soul if he makes it there? I can open a Gate but I want to ensure he won’t go to the Hag.”
“Oh,” Theia hummed. “I’d need to ask. Is that okay?”
“Go right ahead.”
Theia’s glow dimmed briefly. “This Demeter used to be a strident follower of Ares so he wouldn’t go to the Hag’s Domain. The current Mantle holders took on former followers, and Minerva inherited Ares’s Mantle from other deceased war gods.”
“Thank you for removing that concern.”
“Yes, let’s not strengthen the hag with even a single Soul,” Theia stated firmly.
Amdirlain opened a Gate directly to Judgement and let Demeter’s Soul through. The ethereal Soul became solid on the other side, and he looked around in confusion as the Gate shut.
“I hope you find what you seek on your travels and make it home safely,” offered Theia before vanishing.
Amdirlain returned to the temple and explored the other passages but found only deserted chambers with assorted pests that fled from her.